Poison
by CountOnIllusions
Summary: Everything about him was poisonous, his looks, his power and, most of all, his magic. And yet, she knew she would never want him to change, because, for her, he was perfect the way he was, with this emotionless, dangerous, intoxicating way of doing magic. She knew that he couldn't love; she accepted that he didn't care but she would die to make him understand.
1. Secrets and Answers

**Author's note:**

 **I have read countless Tom Riddle fanfics and many of them were really good. Originally, I wrote this just for myself. I never intended to put it on fanfiction. But when it was finally finished I thought that maybe someone might enjoy reading it.**

 **I know that many of you are prejudiced against OC's. So if you don't like it, then please just don't read it. Otherwise, just give it a try.**

 **Disclaimer: All credit for the great world of Harry Potter goes to J. K. Rowling. I only own what you don't recognize.**

 **Chapter One - Secrets and Answers  
**

It was early November 1941. The new term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was already about two months old and the students had settled in again. The teachers gave them a good share of homework and everything was going as it was supposed to go.

Cassiopeia Houlton was in her fourth year at Hogwarts. She was a quiet girl who tended to be on her own most of the time. She was studious and shy but also very attentive to her surroundings. She knew the others thought her to be a bore. Although she would have preferred to belong to the chattering crowd of classmates she simply didn't know how. Interacting with others didn't come easy to her.

Currently, she was sitting in the library, the place she loved most. She had chosen a table in the far corner, very close to the restricted section. Students very rarely passed these last rows of books as it was forbidden to roam the restricted section unless a teacher had given permission. Cassiopeia liked this quite deserted part of the library where she could sit and read books for hours without being disturbed. Today she had chosen a book on non-verbal enchantments. Outside the weather was rainy and it was not at all inviting to go out on the grounds. She had been reading for nearly two hours and had gotten tired. Cassiopeia closed her book and eyed the row of books that was visible from her seat. At first, there was no action at all. But then Tom Riddle entered the row, seemingly looking for a specific volume he wanted to read.

Riddle was a Slytherin and the brightest and most powerful student Cassiopeia had ever met. Riddle was the boy almost every girl at Hogwarts had a crush on. He was undeniably good looking, always polite and brilliant in every subject. In his presence girls regularly started to giggle, hoping he would grace them with one of his stunning smiles. Cassiopeia had to admit that she also liked to be around him. At the start of every term she found herself hoping that Ravenclaw and Slytherin shared as many classes as possible, so she would see Riddle in class. He had something about him that made him special. She couldn't quite tell what it was, but he radiated a power that was fascinating. Magic seemed to come naturally to him. Cassiopeia suspected that for many spells he actually didn't even need a wand but simply used the wand to keep a low profile. Cassiopeia had never talked to Riddle in all her three years at Hogwarts, and she wasn't sure if he even knew she existed, but to her it was sufficient. The crackling power around him reminded her of the possibilities that lay within magic. Whenever they shared classes with the Slytherins, Cassiopeia was elated. To her, classes were considerably more fun with Riddle being part of them. He set the bar high, and being the studious introvert she was, Cassiopeia always accepted that as an internal challenge for her to give her best. She didn't quite know if it was in hope that someday he might actually acknowledge her in class, but either way it was advantageous for her grades. Although she didn't manage to ever best him in class because magic simply kept coming naturally to him in a way that she knew she would never achieve, she was aware that he kept bringing the best out of her, even though he didn't know.

Curious as to why he was having such an impact on her, Cassiopeia had paid increasingly more attention to Riddle over the years. She had noticed that often, despite delivering top work, he still seemed to hold back, not showing the full potential that lay within his power. Sometimes there would be a minimal delay in brandishing the wand when he probably didn't even need it in order to get the spell working or a slightly mumbled incantation when he actually could do it non-verbally. The more she had observed his behaviour the more she had been astonished to find that the handsome, polite and charming model-student wasn't as genuine as he pretended to be. Sometimes she had the impression that he tired of the politeness and charm he exhibited as if it wasn't as much a part of his personality as he pretended, because although Riddle always was so politely charming towards the teachers and so politely indifferent towards the other students, Cassiopeia couldn't help but feel that all of that was only an act to cover the feeling she could sense underneath – pure loathing. She had always wondered why that was. She really didn't know what drove her to open her mouth that afternoon, but she heard herself saying, "Why do you hate them all so much?"

Riddle spun around. However, his face showed no emotion when he asked calmly, "Sorry?"

Cassiopeia bit her lip. There was no taking her question back, so she had to go on. "I just wonder why you hate them all that much," she repeated. When she realized he wasn't about to answer, she continued, "You know, first I thought you only hated Mudbloods. That wouldn't have been too odd, seeing that you are a Slytherin. But then I realized that you also hate pure-bloods. That's quite odd, don't you think? So I'd really like to know why that is." Her voice trailed off.

Riddle eyed her with a blank mask. Then he decided to say, "I don't know what you are talking about."

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. With a calm voice she answered, "You may be the best in class but that doesn't make me dumb. All this politeness of yours is some well learned act. But now there's no one here, no need to keep acting. You could just answer my question."

Riddle continued to look at her, his eyes betraying no feelings at all.

Cassiopeia waited, looking into Riddle's face with interest, inwardly cursing herself for having even asked. When she decided he wasn't going to answer, she grabbed her book and got up.

"Maybe another time then," she mumbled. She put the book back on the shelf and walked to the main row. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her head. She tried to close her mind and put up her mental shields the best she could and concentrated hard on blocking him out of her mind. It was really difficult. Who would have thought that he was that strong? Cassiopeia was suddenly glad that her father had always been somewhat paranoid and had been teaching Occlumency to his children for quite some time now. He probably hadn't expected that it would be other students who tried to get into his children's heads, but Cassiopeia was thankful none the less. She made a mental note that she would have to keep practising though. She could feel her mental shields shake hard under Riddle's pressure, and she knew that if he only got a little more power she wouldn't be able to fight him off anymore. But for now she could feel the stabbing pain subside and was glad that Riddle obviously had to retreat. She slowly turned back to Riddle. Riddle looked taken aback. He raised his eyebrows. "You know Occlumency?" He eyed her curiously.

"My father always says it should be my decision to share my thoughts." Cassiopeia cast a last look on Riddle; then she rounded the shelves and left the library. However confusing Riddle was and however fake his charming politeness was, Cassiopeia still felt attracted to him.

For a moment Riddle stood there and looked at the place she had just left. Then he turned to the shelf again and continued his search for the volume he originally had come to get.

* * *

Riddle sat at the Slytherin table and was looking at his plate. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he felt that he should eat something. He was listening half-heartedly to the chatter of Malfoy and Black. Looking over to the Ravenclaw table, Malfoy was saying, "Such a shame she isn't in Slytherin. She really should've been. What a waste to be a raven."

Looking up from his plate, Riddle followed the boy's gaze and saw the girl from the library walking along the Ravenclaw table and taking a seat there. Something stirred Riddle's curiosity. He remembered how she had blocked him out of her mind. Up to now he had invaded the minds of other students without being thrown out, mostly even unnoticed. It wasn't common for other students to have any mental shields, least of all that strong. With his voice as monotone as ever he asked, "Why should she be in Slytherin?"

Black answered, "Her family is a respectable pure-blood family. Her brother was a Slytherin Headboy a few years ago."

"She might've been an acceptable match," Malfoy drawled, "But not being in Slytherin definitely rules her out."

Riddle kept his gaze on Cassiopeia Houlton. He wondered why she had asked him her question.

He had adapted very quickly to the way life was going at Hogwarts. He had soon understood that he had to cover his true self. He had found that pretending to be the charming innocent model-student was making life easy. The teachers favoured him due to his perfect politeness and excellent work. They were always ready to turn a blind eye, and they didn't suspect anything when he asked for permission for the restricted section of the library. Riddle had soon realized that he was far more powerful than his fellow students. Being determined not to raise any suspicion, he had taken to conceal some of his abilities like doing wandless and non-verbal magic. He didn't quite like that he had to keep such a low profile, but he had realized from Dumbledore's reaction back then at the orphanage that it was dangerous to let others see his true face. He couldn't risk being suspected of any ill intention before he came of age. Afterwards there would be means to avoid any consequences, but he needed to get rid of the Trace. That would only happen if he turned seventeen with a clean record. He was determined to achieve that, even if it meant that he couldn't be himself for some more years.

The only one who didn't buy his act was Dumbledore. It was all because of these incidents at the orphanage. Being overwhelmed by the news of being a wizard he had acted carelessly and instinctively. He had deeply regretted it afterwards because it had made Dumbledore suspicious. That old fool had had an annoyingly close watch on him ever since, and nothing he did could take away that first impression Dumbledore had gotten during the visit at the orphanage. Riddle knew it had been a grave mistake to show Dumbledore so much of his true self. But for once he had been excited when he had learned about the magical world and had thrown caution to the wind. He had soon known that had been wrong. Now he was determined to not repeat his mistake and had built up a deceiving façade that was just as perfect as everything he approached. Of course Dumbledore didn't buy the act, and Riddle was annoyed, but he was also determined to not let Dumbledore ruin his perfect reputation. Ever since he had come to Hogwarts he had been careful to not give Dumbledore any evidence that the sinister character that had greeted Dumbledore at the orphanage still remained in the studious and polite model-student. Dumbledore mistrusted him, but he couldn't do anything against Riddle. Riddle knew that Dumbledore would take the first chance he got to have him dispelled from Hogwarts.

And now there was Cassiopeia. She was the first besides Dumbledore who had questioned his perfect façade. She wasn't supposed to know about his hatred. He had done everything to conceal it. It unnerved him that she had gotten to know about it. Maybe he could try to play his act even better than before and hope that she would forget about it. But to be true, he was curious how she had found out about it and why she cared. Was she spying for Dumbledore? Maybe it wasn't her own observation. Maybe Dumbledore was trying to find new ways of getting rid of him. Riddle didn't like secrets that weren't his own. He wanted to know, and he was determined to find out.

* * *

The Houlton Family was an old pure-blood wizarding family. Their members had always been interested in studying and exploring the fields of magic beyond those points that were taught at Hogwarts. Many of Cassiopeia's ancestors had been deep into the Dark Arts. Cassiopeia was used to being surrounded by people who were enthusiastic about the Dark Arts. However, she had never felt the desire to delve into them; in fact, she was deeply afraid of them. When Cassiopeia had been only seven years old, her mother had died due to some dark experiment having gone wrong. Cassiopeia remembered her mother to be not necessarily a caring mother but definitely a capable witch. After her death Cassiopeia had missed her. At first she hadn't known what had happened, and nobody had told her. But over the years she had realized that her mother had been killed because of her fascination with the Dark Arts.

Cassiopeia was proud to be in Ravenclaw. Luckily, her family had never held the opinion that a pure-blood had to be in Slytherin. Although both of her parents and her brother had been in Slytherin, her father and brother had shared her joy and excitement when she had been sorted into Ravenclaw. After all, both her grandmothers had been in Ravenclaw and several of their ancestors as well. To her father, it wasn't the house that mattered but the academic results that his children achieved. Her brother had set the bar high. He had been a top student, and he had been Head Boy. Cassiopeia was proud of Cepheus. But she also was determined to do her best not to stand in his shadow.

Her father had always encouraged them to read and study with enthusiasm. Houlton Manor housed a large library with a vast range of ancient tomes, many of which were without doubt not approved by the ministry. Being surrounded by all those gorgeous books her whole life, Cassiopeia had loved reading and studying since she was little. She could sit in her room with a book for hours. She definitely preferred the presence of a book to that of other people. Thus, it was no surprise to her that her fellow students had soon lost interest in her and never asked her to join any of their gatherings. Sometimes she felt lonely and left out, but in her books she always found consolation. All in all, Ravenclaw definitely suited her most.

* * *

The next time Riddle came to the library, he stopped at the corner of the row he had planned to enter. He saw Cassiopeia sitting on the windowsill, reading a book. He pondered using Legilimency once again for a moment, before he decided against it. Instead he said with an emotionless even voice, "Why do you want to know?"

His voice broke the silence and Cassiopeia gave a jerk. She turned and looked at him. Then she smiled and said, "Hello to you, too." Riddle didn't answer. He walked closer to the window until he stood right next to her. For a moment they both stared out of the window. Then, Cassiopeia shrugged, "I was only curious. I've never seen anyone with so much hidden emotion, so much hatred."

Riddle continued to watch the students outside on the grounds. He wondered if he should answer. He had never paid much attention to her, but it hadn't escaped his notice that she was intelligent and almost as good a student as he was. She was always friendly towards others, but she never was the centre of attention. She seemingly preferred being on her own. Somehow she was different from the others. Her Occlumency skills had definitely astonished him and left him wondering if she could be useful somewhere along his way. He felt that responding to her question might be dangerous but maybe helpful, and he could be careful. He would see where things would be going. "I'm just not too social." Riddle's voice was casual.

"You don't say." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Riddle couldn't suppress a smirk. Cassiopeia looked at him, "You don't want to tell me; I get it. It's okay, y'know."

Without having given away anything, Riddle felt that something had changed between them. Somehow it felt like they shared a secret now. He hadn't admitted anything and still it felt like he had and that she knew it.

Cassiopeia turned her gaze back to the book she had been reading before. Riddle eyed the book. Then he said, "That book isn't worth the time reading."

Cassiopeia looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"The theory on non-verbal enchantment through affection is definitely wrong," Riddle continued.

"I don't think so. Have you ever thought about the effects that involving a feeling can have on the magic flow?" Cassiopeia answered.

Riddle pondered that for a moment. Then he shook his head and sat down. "I think you get the theory totally wrong there."

Soon, they were deep into academic discussions. They only came to an end when the librarian came to tell them that the library was about to close.

Cassiopeia gathered her things, got up and left for the dorm. Riddle watched her leave before he packed his things and returned to the dungeons. He thought about the events of the evening. Cassiopeia had reacted differently from Dumbledore. Riddle had the impression that in a way Cassiopeia didn't actually care whether his personality was dark. She seemed genuinely interested without questioning his motives. Just as he had thought Cassiopeia really was different from the others. Somehow he had won her over without even needing to charm her. He had won her over with his true self. Thinking about it, that was definitely strange, but somehow it felt right.


	2. Insight

**Author's note:**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting! You really made my day!**

 **Chapter Two - Insight  
**

The months went by, and Riddle and Cassiopeia grew used to sharing the table near the restricted section of the library. Mostly they wouldn't talk much; they would just acknowledge each other's presence and continue their studying. But the silence that graced their table was never heavy or depressing. It was what they both wanted, what they both preferred. From time to time they would discuss homework or other academic topics they had been reading about. After all, they both shared a deep longing for knowledge.

It hadn't failed to escape Cassiopeia's notice that during his visits to the library Riddle repeatedly sneaked books out of the restricted section, and she couldn't deny she saw him falling for the Dark Arts more and more. She saw this gleam in his eyes when he was reading those books. It reminded her of the way her mother had been. Cassiopeia wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wasn't strictly opposed to the Dark Arts, but she didn't share the fascination that Riddle seemed to experience either. Somewhere deep inside she was afraid that someday Riddle might get lost on his path of the Dark Arts like so many wizards before. But she clung to the hope that he was stronger than those and would conquer the challenge. Whenever she would see him open one of the books she knew he had charmed to look innocent, she would watch him with calm eyes until he would meet her gaze with his dark eyes and dare her to say anything. However, she never did.

Riddle knew Cassiopeia wasn't fooled by the charms he put on the Dark Arts' books. He saw it in her eyes when she watched him warily as he was reading the disguised books. But she never commented on it. She just returned to reading her own books.

* * *

As time went by, Cassiopeia got to dive deeper and deeper into the mystery that was Tom Riddle. Paying close attention to Riddle and his gang of Slytherins, she repeatedly witnessed one or the other of his gang, normally the type of boys that tended to bully others, shying away from Riddle. A stern look that Riddle cast their way or a raised eyebrow would suffice, and they would cower away from him. To those who paid enough attention the hierarchy was obvious.

One evening Cassiopeia was on her way to the astronomy tower for Astronomy class late at night. She had decided to take a shortcut leading through a quite deserted corridor. She had just passed an empty classroom when she heard the door of the classroom open. She was able to hide in an alcove just in time to watch Riddle and Avery leave the classroom. Avery was in a bad state and left the scene hurriedly, limping slightly. Cassiopeia had a good view on Riddle's face, and it was obvious that he was pleased. There was a small smile gracing his features, and this time it seemed genuine. Riddle had clearly gotten what he had wanted. There was no denying that Riddle was responsible for the injuries Avery had suffered, but there was no pity on Riddle's features and no sign of remorse, just a gleam in his eyes that made Cassiopeia shiver slightly. Still, she couldn't help thinking that, despite no matter how wrong it was, it still made him somehow even more unique.

When Avery had left, Riddle walked to Astronomy class. Momentarily he had the impression that he wasn't alone in the corridor, but as he was already quite late for his class he didn't bother to investigate. He was pleased with himself. Avery had had to be taught a lesson. The idiot had been acting too carelessly, bullying Mudbloods, likely to draw a kind of attention that Riddle neither needed nor appreciated. He had told this bunch of good-for-nothings at least a thousand times that they needed to be discreet. And still they didn't get it. They had pure blood but unfortunately no brains. Riddle smirked. Now Avery would remember to be more careful. It had been a great opportunity to test the latest spells he had been reading about. By now, Riddle had taken his seat in class. He had just spread his Astronomy charts in front of him when the classroom door opened again. Riddle turned in his seat and saw Cassiopeia enter the room. He was just about to turn back when he caught her eye. It was only for a brief second that their gazes locked; then Cassiopeia slipped into her seat and took her charts out of her bag. Riddle's gaze lingered on her face for another moment, and he had the impression that he had seen something in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Unfortunately, in this moment the professor chose to appear, and class started. Riddle reluctantly turned back to his charts. He couldn't wait for the second half of the lesson when they would be going onto the platform to observe the sky and complete their charts.

When the professor finally signalled for them to obtain a telescope, Riddle made sure he got the telescope next to Cassiopeia. The professor had told them they were to search for a stellar aberration. After a moment of peering through his telescope, Riddle whispered in Cassiopeia's direction, "Already seen anything important tonight?"

Cassiopeia stopped looking through her telescope and glanced at him. Then she smiled and whispered, "Maybe."

"Any constellation that might be worth reporting?" He looked at her intently.

Cassiopeia seemed to ponder the question. When she finally answered, she seemed to choose her words carefully. "Actually I saw a star that's usually hiding in some stellar cluster. The star shone so bright, it was exceptional." She paused.

Riddle instinctively knew she wasn't talking about the sky. His voice was barely audible when he continued, "What made it so exceptional?"

Cassiopeia looked at her telescope. "I think it generated an immense stellar wind, heavily affecting some nearby object. It was tremendous."

Riddle instantly knew that she knew. She had somehow seen him and Avery. She knew he had cursed Avery. His fingers closed around his wand in his pocket, and his mind was racing. However, when he heard what she whispered next, he let go of his wand and slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket.

"It's the stellar wind that makes the star unique, you know. Without it, it wouldn't be the same. It was only an instant but," she paused, "it was beautiful."

Riddle cast a glance at Cassiopeia. She wasn't looking at him but had started peering through her telescope again. He couldn't help thinking that she was really strange. Riddle turned back to his telescope as well. There was the ghost of a smile playing around his lips when he whispered, "Let me know if you ever see it again."

Cassiopeia smiled. Their conversation had been perfectly innocent for any outsider. But she knew he had understood.

After that night Cassiopeia paid even closer attention to the Slytherin gang, and it was obvious that the incident with Avery had neither been the first nor would it be the last. It explained the hierarchy of the gang. Riddle was a fierce leader, but that was exactly what all those Slytherin guys looked for.

* * *

Cassiopeia didn't know why she was drawn to Riddle the way she was. Undeniably, there was something dark and mysterious about him, something sinister that lurked beneath this shining façade of charming politeness and his angelic good looks. He concealed his hatred well; he put up a convincing act of the bright and charming orphan, and most people didn't bother to look closer. But Cassiopeia had looked careful enough to catch a glimpse of the darkness hiding beneath the surface. It made her blood freeze and her passion burn. Her magic felt different when Riddle was around. It crackled excitedly and was running wild in a way that made her feel like it was pure freedom spreading in her veins. She knew she should consider it more like a poison drowning her in the attempt of gaining possession of her. But the way Riddle's magic was fuelling her own was intoxicating, as was the darkness of his power, radiating from him and sweeping her away. Cassiopeia knew she was standing on the edge of an abyss, but she wanted nothing more than to fall and get carried away by this indescribable power that was his way of doing magic.

Deep inside she knew that Riddle was dangerous. Having spent most of the school year with him in the library, she had had to admit that Riddle wasn't feeling like others did. He knew when others expected him to show emotion, and then he was always able to put up a great act. But Cassiopeia wasn't fooled by it anymore. The emotions he presented never reached his eyes. He had no real emotion aside from the hatred. But Cassiopeia didn't care. She didn't need him to have emotions. She needed the way his magic influenced her own; she loved this sparkling power running through her veins that made her feel like anything was possible, like there were no boundaries at all, nowhere.

* * *

Besides studying the Dark Arts Riddle was obsessed with investigating his heritage. It hadn't been easy to find anything and after doing endless research concerning any magical heritage related to the name of Riddle he had come to the conclusion that there were no Riddles with noteworthy magical history. Grudgingly, he had had to admit that maybe it really was his mother who had been magical. So he had set out to find out about his mother's line. At first, his only reference had been his middle name, Marvolo. At the orphanage he had been told that his mother had named him Marvolo after his maternal grandfather. Finally he had found out that there existed a wizard named Marvolo Gaunt who had a daughter named Merope. Riddle had been confident that he was on the right track. After doing further research he had realized that the Gaunts were promising. It had taken weeks and months but he couldn't quite believe it when he finally traced their line back to Salazar Slytherin.

Slytherin. Riddle only realized that he had whispered aloud when he saw Cassiopeia gazing up from the book she had been reading and looking at him with curiosity. She didn't say anything, but she continued to watch him. Riddle shifted slightly in his seat. Sometimes he wondered if Cassiopeia was doing her own strange kind of Legilimency when she watched him like that. It was the way she had looked at him before confronting him with his so well concealed and most inner feeling of hatred as if it was plain to see for everyone. He was sure that his face betrayed no emotion and his dark eyes were as empty as always. But it didn't help when he saw the ghost of a smile flicker across Cassiopeia's face. She didn't comment but went back to reading as if nothing had happened. Riddle shook his head almost unnoticeably and continued reading himself.

Slytherin. Cassiopeia's mind raced. It made perfect sense that Riddle was related to one of the most powerful wizards who had ever lived. To begin with, he had been sorted into Slytherin. Not being pure-blooded, the decision of the Sorting Hat indicated that Riddle had to have some strong magical heritage on the wizarding line. Otherwise the hat would never have considered putting him in Slytherin. Besides, the hat had barely touched Riddle's head when it had already announced its decision. Then, Riddle was unusually powerful for a wizard his age. Being a descendant of Slytherin explained a lot.

Cassiopeia took a deep breath. She had read "Hogwarts – A History" long ago and she remembered the different legends about Slytherin, especially the one about the Chamber of Secrets. Generations of wizards at Hogwarts had searched for it, but nobody knew if it really existed. It was supposed to be only found and opened by the heir of Slytherin. If Riddle was related to Slytherin, he would be the heir and he would be able to open it; if he was able to find it, that was. The Chamber was legendary. Cassiopeia felt her curiosity stir.

The school year was almost over and summer break was approaching. She wouldn't get a chance to search for the Chamber at Hogwarts but surely her family's library contained books that might provide information. Cassiopeia smiled. She had a task for the holidays.

When the holidays came, Riddle was in a very bad mood. He hated going back to the wretched orphanage. But there was no alternative. Dippet had refused to let him stay at Hogwarts, and Riddle was convinced that it was Dumbledore's doing. Dumbledore didn't want him to be at Hogwarts any more than necessary. Riddle felt cold fury spread inside of him. How he hated that damn man. Again, he cursed himself for having raised Dumbledore's suspicion in the first place.

Cassiopeia was happy to return home. She enjoyed the freedom that came with the holidays. No classes, no homework, no exams. She slept long in the mornings, and after breakfast she spent her time in the library, looking for information on Salazar Slytherin.

One morning her brother joined her in the library. He glanced at the book Cassiopeia was pulling from the shelf and grinned, "Slytherin again? Maybe you were sorted into the wrong house, after all?"

Cassiopeia smiled. "Certainly not. Ravenclaws just love knowledge, even if it is about the snake man."

"What are you looking for? I'm sure there's no book about Slytherin in this library that I haven't read. You know, I was a dutiful Slytherin." Cepheus smirked.

Cassiopeia laughed. "There are dozens of books in here. I doubt that you've read them all. But fine, if you're such a knowing Slytherin, tell me, what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"The Chamber? Really? You want to waste your time trying to find it? I can tell you, we searched for it. It's hopeless; Hogwarts is too huge."

"So you believe it exists?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it? It's only nearly impossible to find."

"But why would Slytherin build it if people aren't able to find it?"

"According to the legend only his heir is supposed to find it. I guess there were descendants of Slytherin throughout the centuries who were able to find it. But during my time at Hogwarts there obviously wasn't an heir."

'What do you think, why can it only be found by Slytherin's heir?"

"Believe me, I wrecked my brain for an answer. The only thing that makes any sense is the snake."

"Sorry?"

"Slytherin's obsession with snakes. He was a Parselmouth and being a Parselmouth is hereditary. So that could explain why only his descendants would be able to open the Chamber. Unfortunately, it doesn't explain why only his descendants should be able to find it."

Cassiopeia pondered that. "It seems to make sense, yes. That means that at the entrance there have to be snakes, real or artificial, so that the Parselmouth can communicate with them."

Cepheus nodded. "But they might be really small. The Chamber is supposed to be hidden. There won't be a place where a snake is shouting 'Hey, look, here's the entrance'. And it could be anywhere."

"Well, I guess, the Chamber itself will be in the dungeons because that was Slytherin's domain. So the entrance won't be up in the towers but probably somewhere on the lower floors."

"Makes sense. But there are enough rooms there, a lot to search."

Cassiopeia slowly nodded. "Thanks Ceph."

* * *

After her conversation with Cepheus, Cassiopeia couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. The weeks seemed to stretch endlessly until it was finally time to return. The week before the new term Cassiopeia had received the letter from Hogwarts informing her about the things she needed for the school year. It had also contained the information that she had been appointed prefect. The Hogwarts Express was steaming its way towards the Scottish Highlands. Cassiopeia changed into her school uniform. She proudly eyed her prefect badge and pinned it to her cloak. She reread the information regarding the meeting with the Head Boy and Girl on the train and carefully stowed it in her pocket.

When Cassiopeia entered the Heads' compartment it was already quite crowded with prefects of the different houses. Cassiopeia's eyes immediately fell on Tom Riddle, casually leaning against the wall next to the window. Cassiopeia smiled. Of course he had also been appointed prefect. When Riddle caught her eye, he nodded curtly. Then he turned his attention back to the Gryffindor Head Boy who cleared his throat and started his speech.

"Hi all and congratulations on having been appointed prefects. As you all know, it's an honour to be a prefect at this fine school and I expect you all to fulfil your duties with the necessary dedication. Don't abuse your powers but use them wise. Now, as you know, we are required to patrol the school after curfew. We'll do this in teams; you'll be partnered with your fellow house mate of your year. The Head Girl and I will do our rounds together. As we've both been prefects previously that leaves Longbottom from seventh year Gryffindor and Riley from seventh year Ravenclaw do their rounds together. There are twelve teams, so you can expect to be on duty approximately once every two weeks. Schedules will be handed out tomorrow morning together with your school timetables. Tonight we'll start rounds with fifth year Ravenclaw, that means Houlton and McLean. We'll have a meeting once every month, and you'll always be notified in due course. There's a prefects' bath room and a prefects' common room that you can use now that you are prefects. Password is 'Sleeping draught' for the bathroom and 'Lemon drop' for the common room. Now, good luck to all of you and have a great start at school!"

Riddle had been bored throughout the Head Boy's speech. There was nothing he didn't already know. But of course Gryffindors liked to hear themselves talk. When the Head Boy had finally announced the pairings for patrols, Riddle had shot a disdainful glance at Andromeda Yaxley, his fellow Slytherin fifth year. Yaxley had flashed her teeth at him in an attempt at a seductive smile. He had ignored her, but he already dreaded the first disgustingly long hours he would have to spend on patrol with her.

* * *

Cassiopeia was waiting at the bottom of the stairs to Ravenclaw tower. Her fellow Ravenclaw prefect, Rufus McLean, had asked her to meet him there at ten for their first patrol. Now, it was already ten after ten, and he hadn't shown up yet. Cassiopeia was just contemplating what to do when she heard footsteps approaching. However, when she turned around, it wasn't McLean but Riddle.

"What are you doing here?"

"Prefect duties."

"It's Ravenclaw's turn tonight. Where's McLean?"

"He felt sick and had to go to the Hospital Wing. I offered to help out."

"Now, did you? McLean seemed quite fine when I last saw him after dinner."

Riddle simply shrugged and started walking along the corridor. "We should get going, the castle's big, and you don't want to stay up the whole night, do you?"

Cassiopeia hurried to catch up with him. Riddle smiled to himself. It had been so easy to hex McLean and persuade him to go to the Hospital Wing, switching rounds with him. Now McLean would have to deal with Yaxley, and he would have plenty of time to get the Head Boy to change the wretched schedule.

* * *

The next morning they were handed their timetables at breakfast. Cassiopeia scanned the classes and smiled. They shared Potions, Charms, Astronomy and Defence against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins. Together with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes that made six classes with Riddle, but Defence against the Dark Arts would be the most exciting one. Ravenclaw and Slytherin would share this class for the first time in their five years of Hogwarts. By now Cassiopeia knew that the Dark Arts were Riddle's passion. That made Defence a very special subject.

When Professor Merrythought opened the doors, the students filed in. The professor didn't waste time and jumped right into the subject. "We are going to see what you remember from your last four years of studying. Let's have some duels to see where you stand. Who is going to be first?"

No one wanted to be. Finally, Riddle's hand went up. The professor smiled and said, "Wonderful, Mr. Riddle, I expected nothing less from you. So now we need an opponent."

All the students looked at their desks, hoping they wouldn't be picked. Duelling Riddle definitely wasn't on their priority list. Riddle looked bored. Professor Merrythought looked excited. Finally, Cassiopeia raised her hand.

The professor beamed, "Great! Let's watch the first duel."

Cassiopeia went to the front of the classroom, gripping her wand tightly. Riddle nodded towards her. She nodded back. Then they went in position for the duel. Riddle sent a spell towards Cassiopeia which she dodged with a shield. She sent a curse of her own which Riddle deflected easily. The duel went on for some time; they didn't give the other anything for free. Spells flew through the room, and the other students found the duel more and more exciting. They knew Cassiopeia to be a top student but, nevertheless, they knew that Riddle was even better. They hadn't expected her to give him such a hard time. But finally he did it. Cassiopeia fell and Riddle disarmed her. Professor Merrythought beamed, "What an exciting duel, great work, the two of you, 20 points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw for a great duel and another 10 points to Slytherin for winning."

Riddle held out his hand for Cassiopeia. She took it and got up. Riddle handed her her wand. She looked at him and said, "Thanks." He nodded curtly.

* * *

When the lesson was finished, Cassiopeia headed towards the prefects' common room. Ever since Cepheus had told her about the common room she had wanted to go there. According to Cepheus it was empty most of the time because the majority of prefects preferred being in their house common rooms with their friends. That made it seem like a refuge to Cassiopeia. On her way there, she suddenly realized somebody was following her. She turned around and saw Riddle. She waited until he was next to her, and they walked together in silence. Then Riddle suddenly said, "That was quite impressive."

Cassiopeia smiled, "Next time I'll win."

Riddle smirked, "Maybe in your dreams."

"You don't think I have a chance? Let's try it," she challenged him.

They had already reached the prefects' common room. Cassiopeia gave the password and the door opened. Upon entering, Riddle answered, "Fine."

He closed the door and they both drew their wands. An instant later the room was filled with the differently coloured light of the hexes, spells and defensive charms they sent flying towards each other. They both battled hard. Finally, Riddle gained the upper hand, when he shot his next curse towards Cassiopeia. "Crucio." The hissed spell hit Cassiopeia straight in the chest.

Instantly, pain exploded in her body, taking her breath away. She gasped and bent over, clutching her body with her arms. Riddle lifted the curse the moment he saw her fall, his face as emotionless as always. He slowly went over to where Cassiopeia was crouching. After a moment, Cassiopeia opened her eyes and looked into his face. "I should have known you wouldn't play fair," she hissed.

"I won," Riddle stated.

"You….cheated," she replied, "Unforgivables aren't allowed in duels."

Riddle smirked. "I don't care about rules when they are not my own. It's a duel. Every spell that comes to your mind ought to be allowed. In the end, it's about winning, not about keeping with the rules. You should just admit that I'm better."

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "Seems that I'm just lucky that it wasn't the Killing Curse that crossed your mind first."

Riddle's smirk grew wider. "Don't worry; I wouldn't have used that one on you right now. That would've gotten me in too much a mess requiring explanation."

There was a moment of silence. Cassiopeia knew he wasn't joking. "Whatever." Cassiopeia sat back against the sofa next to her and watched her wand in her fingers. "I still think you cheated." The room was silent again. Riddle walked to the window. Outside it was raining. Finally, Cassiopeia said, "But I should've seen that curse coming. After all, it's you, we are talking about."

Riddle raised an eyebrow. Again, silence filled the room. Slowly, Cassiopeia got up and joined Riddle at the window. For some time they both stood and watched the rain outside.

"Your powers are impressive," Cassiopeia finally stated. "You're going to be great, I'm sure, although probably in a different way than they might be expecting."

Riddle looked sideways at her. His expression was unreadable, as always.

"I really don't understand how all the teachers can be so oblivious." Cassiopeia continued to look out of the window. When Riddle failed to react in any way, she continued, "Probably, they don't want to see it. It would ruin the image of their model-student, wouldn't it?"

Riddle still watched her without any sign of emotion showing on his face. Cassiopeia finally turned to face him. "Can't you show some kind of emotion, at least for once?"

Riddle turned as well, so that he stood right in front of Cassiopeia. He smirked. "What kind of emotion do you want?"

Cassiopeia looked up in his face and searched his eyes. "I don't really know. But I guess I would do with any."

She was completely taken by surprise when Riddle suddenly bent forward and pressed his lips against hers. She didn't know how to react, and she had the strange feeling that Riddle didn't know either.

* * *

Tom was taken aback. He had planned to only surprise her with this sudden display of emotion and then pull away. But it felt strangely right.

When they broke apart, neither of them knew what to say. Cassiopeia turned to look out of the window again, and Tom was glad that she chose not to comment on whatever it was that had just happened.

Because, frankly, Tom didn't understand what had happened. Whenever he had faked emotions, he had used it to manipulate others, and it had always worked. People were so eager to find emotions in his behaviour; they didn't even think of questioning the sincerity of his feelings. He knew when others expected him to show feelings, and he could easily fake them to the minimum amount that was required to appear inconspicuous. He was aware that Cassiopeia didn't fall for his act anymore. He knew that she had been suspecting that he didn't have true emotions for quite some time now. However, once in a while she seemingly didn't want to accept that she was right and was still waiting for him to turn out as normal. Tom smirked. He had never wanted to be normal. It was for the fact that he knew Cassiopeia didn't expect him to have emotions that he could actually cope with her in a way that he was somehow even enjoying their silent study group in the library. When she was around, he didn't have to keep up an appearance. He didn't have to keep acting. It was strangely relaxing to be able to be his true self around someone else. She didn't expect anything from him. She didn't want to see things that weren't there. She was fine with his emotionless behaviour. Therefore, he had known that she wouldn't buy his display of passion when he kissed her. He had done it just for the fun of mocking her continued occasional hope for him being an ordinary human being. And then something strange had happened. It had felt right and honest although it was supposed to be nothing more than an act, like so many before.


	3. Fears and trust

**Author's note:**

 **Again thanks for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following! You guys are great :-)!**

 **Chapter Three - Fears and trust  
**

The morning before her second prefect duty the Gryffindor Head Boy approached Cassiopeia and handed her a parchment. Cassiopeia glanced at it. It was a schedule concerning patrols.

"I had to redo the schedule. There were some complications so, unfortunately, we had to split the Ravenclaw team and partner you up with Slytherin. Sorry about that, but you'll have to bear the snakes." He sounded really sorry.

Cassiopeia gave him a small smile. "Don't worry. It's ok. Thanks for the information."

The Head Boy nodded and walked away. Cassiopeia scanned the names on the schedule. When her eyes fell on the pairing Houlton/Riddle, she couldn't suppress a smile. It had been hard to believe that McLean's absence during their last patrol duty had been a coincidence. She had already suspected that it was Tom's doing and now her suspicion was confirmed. Cassiopeia stowed the parchment in her bag and left the Great Hall for her Defence against the Dark Arts class.

Defence class was dragging on. Tom was sitting in his chair, his quill in his hand, and was barely paying attention to the professor. On the outside he was the model student he always was, but inside he wondered for the umpteenth time why the students had to learn to defend themselves against something as wonderful as the Dark Arts. Tom watched as the professor moved a cupboard to the centre of the classroom. Professor Merrythought indicated the cupboard and then explained, "For the rest of today's lesson we will do some practical exercises. I have brought you a boggart. As you probably know it will assume the form of the viewer's worst fear. You will have to fight it off by laughing. Easy as that sounds, it is a little more difficult when confronted with your own worst fear. The incantation is "Riddikulus". But it only works if you push past your fear and concentrate properly on something that will make the boggart look amusing. So, who volunteers to demonstrate how it is done?"

Tom shifted slightly in his chair. Knowing the average people's fears might be useful one day. However, he didn't want to be the first to face the boggart. He definitely didn't want the whole class to know what he feared most although he was quite curious to see which form the boggart would assume. However, he had an idea what his boggart would turn out to be, and he wanted to keep that a secret. So Tom found himself hoping that Merrythought wouldn't pick him to volunteer if nobody else would raise their damn hand. But apparently nobody was very keen on being first, although Tom suspected that it wasn't for the same reason as for why he didn't want to be first. The others were probably only scared that they wouldn't get the incantation right. Tom sneered. They were all so pathetic. The sneer was instantly wiped off his face when he saw Professor Merrythought catch his eye, quietly asking him to come to the front of the class. Tom gritted his teeth. He absolutely didn't want to get up, but actually he didn't see a way out. So, reluctantly, he pushed his chair back. The class turned to watch him, curiosity plastered on every face. He kept his calm façade, swearing inwardly. And then the miracle happened. Tom was still rising from his chair when suddenly Cassiopeia raised her hand and cleared her throat. "Would you mind if I tried, professor?" She asked with a calm voice.

The professor turned and looked at Cassiopeia standing beside her desk. Then she smiled, "Of course not, go ahead, Miss Houlton."

Cassiopeia grabbed her wand and slowly went to the front. When she walked past Tom their eyes locked briefly. He gracefully sat back down and leaned back in his chair. She had saved him on purpose, he knew it.

Cassiopeia didn't know what had gotten into her. She definitely didn't want to face that boggart. She hadn't thought for one second when she had seen the reluctance with which Tom got up. Outside he had been calm and bored, but she had felt the hidden frustration. She could understand that someone as ambitious as Tom wouldn't want others to know about his worst fear. She hadn't thought twice to save him from this. But here she was; now she had to expose her own worst fear to all the others. She faced the cupboard. Professor Merrythought gave her an encouraging look and opened the cupboard.

Cassiopeia held her breath as did the rest of the class. The temperature decreased and the room darkened. Out of the cupboard came the black ripped cloth of cloak of a dementor. Cassiopeia swallowed hard. Suddenly, her hands felt sweaty and she grabbed her wand tighter. Her hand was shaking heavily when she raised her wand at the dementor that was slowly approaching her. A wave of panic swept through her body. She desperately tried to think of something funny, but her mind suddenly seemed to be completely empty. She felt her blood drumming in her ears. Finally, when the dementor was only inches away, she collected herself and pictured glittering pink smoke, hissing "Riddikulus" and frantically waving her wand at the boggart. The dementor changed and turned to glittering pink smoke. The class laughed. Relief washed over Cassiopeia and she joined the laughter. Professor Merrythought shoved the boggart back into the cupboard and closed it. "Thank you, Miss Houlton, that was very good. 10 points to Ravenclaw." Cassiopeia returned to her seat, avoiding Tom's eyes as she passed him. She could still feel her heart pounding uncontrollably.

Professor Merrythought droned on about defending against a boggart and promised them that they would all get a chance to practice during the next lesson. Tom didn't listen anymore. He thought about Cassiopeia and the dementor. Why had she saved him? While he was still thinking about it Professor Merrythought ended the lesson, and the students filed out of the classroom. Tom took his time to pack his things. When he was finally done, he was the last to leave.

Tom went to the prefects' common room. When he entered he looked around. It was empty. With a few quick strides he went over to the fireplace and sat down. He took his wand and lit the fire. He was still making wood fly into the fire when the door opened again. Tom raised his head and saw Cassiopeia entering. She closed the door behind her and slowly went over to the sofa. When she realized that Tom was sitting by the fireside, she gave a start. Tom raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. He waited for Cassiopeia to sit down on the couch next to the armchair he was occupying. When he realized she wasn't about to say anything, he cleared his throat. "Why is your boggart a dementor?" His voice was commanding.

Cassiopeia looked at him. "Why, is that your way of saying thanks?" she inquired.

Tom felt his temper flare. "Tell me."

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "Why?"

Tom felt his hand around his wand tighten. Then he exhaled sharply and deliberately loosened his fingers around his wand. He plastered a smile on his face and purred, "Because I ask sweetly."

Cassiopeia couldn't suppress a grin. "You are exceptional." There was a moment of silence. Then she shrugged, "But it's quite obvious, isn't it? I'm scared of fear."

Tom looked at her and frowned. "Are you?" He paused. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"The boggart."

"The professor asked us to, didn't she? It would've been my turn sooner or later, so I decided to get it over with."

Tom stared at her. He wondered if she misunderstood him on purpose.

"How are you going to escape the next lesson?" Her voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

"You'll find out," he smirked. "And, by the way, meet me tonight at ten in the entrance hall. We've got prefect duty."

* * *

When Cassiopeia arrived in the entrance hall at five to ten in the evening, Tom was already leaning against the post of the grand staircase. They acknowledged each other in silence and started walking along the corridor. Everything was quiet. They had already patrolled several hallways that were all devoid of any action when Cassiopeia cleared her throat. "What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

The question caught Tom off guard, but he hid his surprise well. "What do you mean?" He decided to play safe.

"Ok, let's skip the part where we play hide and seek and just be honest. I'll start. You are a descendant of Slytherin. Slytherin is said to have built a secret Chamber which is only to be found by his heir. The Chamber is legendary. I like treasure quests. Do you know where it is located?"

"Wow. That was a lot of honesty." Tom smirked.

"You know, I could help you find it, if you haven't already found it."

"What an intriguing offer." Tom's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "And no, I haven't found it yet."

Cassiopeia decided to ignore his sarcasm. "I was planning to search for it during my patrols with McLean. That might have been a little difficult but, what a fortunate coincidence, you seem to have already taken the liberty of taking care of that inconvenience."

Tom's mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. After a moment he asked, "What do you know about the Chamber?"

"I guess it's probably located in the dungeons. So the entrance shouldn't be in the towers but somewhere on the lower floors. I tried to find some maps of Hogwarts in our library during the holidays. There wasn't much, but at least a little to start with."

Tom raised his eyebrows with interest.

"I found old maps of the pipes and there are some irregularities that might be worth investigating."

"Could be," Tom mused. "As for the dungeons, I already searched there thoroughly but without result."

* * *

When their next Defence against the Dark Arts lesson started, Tom was sitting in his chair, casually playing with his wand. The cupboard with the boggart was already placed in front of the class. Tom watched it rattling and shaking. When Professor Merrythought started class, he glanced at Cassiopeia who was sitting in her chair and had rested her forehead on her hand. His lips curled into a twisted smile. When he had the impression that Merrythought was about to get the students to practise the annoying boggart defence, he quickly flicked his wand in Cassiopeia's direction, being careful not to attract attention. Then he waited a few seconds before he raised his hand. Merrythought threw him an inquiring glance. "Yes, Mr. Riddle?"

Tom cleared his throat and rose from his chair. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, professor, but I have the impression that Miss Houlton isn't feeling well. I wanted to offer to take her to the Hospital Wing."

Merrythought looked at Cassiopeia who had turned unnaturally pale and clung to her desk for support. "Miss Houlton?"

Cassiopeia swallowed hard before she whispered, "I don't know what happened. I'm just feeling so sick." She felt dizzy and her vision was blurred.

Tom was still standing next to his desk. "I just thought Miss Houlton should be accompanied to the Hospital Wing, given her present state. Of course, if you want to send someone else that would be perfectly fine with me…" His voice trailed away.

Merrythought immediately shook her head. "No, no, Mr. Riddle, of course you are going to accompany her. I'm sure that you don't need to practise the Riddikulus spell. So, go ahead." She threw an encouraging smile at Cassiopeia. "Miss Houlton, Mr. Riddle will take you to the Hospital Wing. You really don't look well."

Cassiopeia nodded and tried to get up. With a few quick strides Tom was standing next to her, helping her up and out of the classroom. When he had closed the door behind them and taken her a few steps along the corridor, Cassiopeia muttered, "Remove that."

Tom smirked and continued dragging her along the corridor. "I can't. This has to be convincing."

Cassiopeia abruptly stopped walking. She was still feeling dizzy and nauseated. She turned towards Tom whom she was heavily clinging to for support. "Remove it now; or I swear I'll throw up all over you."

Tom quirked an eyebrow, and with a voice full of sarcasm he answered, "That's quite a severe threat, you know." Nevertheless, he flicked his wand at her. Slowly, the dizziness and nausea decreased. After a moment Cassiopeia let go of Tom's arm and continued walking along the corridor.

"Where are you going?"

"To the Hospital Wing. I thought you said this ought to be convincing."

Tom quickly followed suit.

"You could have told me about your plan," Cassiopeia complained.

"I wasn't sure about your acting skills. They might have ruined that."

Cassiopeia snorted. When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Tom knocked. When Madam Malcolm opened the door, Tom gestured towards Cassiopeia. "Could you have a look at her? She wasn't feeling well and got really white…"

Madam Malcolm looked at Tom and then at Cassiopeia. "Thank you, Mr. Riddle, for escorting her here. Come in, dear, we'll have a look." Before she could close the door, Tom cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I stayed, just to make sure she's really ok?"

Madam Malcolm raised an eyebrow and threw another glance at Tom and Cassiopeia. Then she shrugged. "If Miss Houlton doesn't mind, you can stay here and wait."

Cassiopeia nodded her consent. Tom took a seat and Cassiopeia followed Madam Malcolm to her office. Tom shot a glance at Cassiopeia before Madam Malcolm closed the office door. Cassiopeia still looked somewhat sick. A genuine smile flashed across his face. There wouldn't be any trace of the spell he had used left for Madam Malcolm to get suspicious, but it had left enough effect to make their story convincing. And it would surely take long enough to make him miss the rest of Defence class.

* * *

The months went by and they still hadn't found a promising clue as to where the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets could be located. They had spent their patrols searching for possible secret passageways and had spent lots of time in the library, researching information in every book they could lay their hands on. For many months now, they had been looking for any information they could find concerning Slytherin's secret.

It was a rainy day in early May 1943. Cassiopeia was on her way to Charms when she suddenly felt the need to go to a bathroom immediately. In the bathroom she rushed to the nearest toilet cubicle and shut the door. She had been in there for quite some time and was feeling slightly better, when she heard two girls come in and go to the sinks. One voice was complaining, "I hate that bitch. How could she do that? Look at my face; do you think these spots will ever go away?"

Another voice mumbled something comforting. Cassiopeia heard the tap of a sink being turned and then the first voice exclaimed, "Oh, blimey, that rotten sink. When will they ever repair this?"

The other voice replied, "My sister says it was already out of order when she was a first year. And, mind you, she graduated three years ago."

Cassiopeia heard the tap of another sink being turned and then the sound of water splashing into a sink muffled the voices. Cassiopeia sat there, taking in the conversation. Suddenly things fell into place. When Cassiopeia heard the bathroom door close behind the girls she left the cubicle and went to the sinks. She examined the sink that had been out of order ever since she first came to Hogwarts and noticed a small engraving on the side of the tap. Cassiopeia had to move really close to make out the shape of the engraving. She gasped. It was a snake. Cassiopeia felt her heart skip a beat. Could it be that this was the entrance to the Chamber? She couldn't wait to tell Tom. All of a sudden the sickness was gone. Cassiopeia grabbed her bag and ran to the Charms classroom.

When she arrived, the students were still waiting in front of the classroom. Cassiopeia spotted Tom being surrounded by his Slytherin cronies. Avery was talking excitedly. Tom was casually leaning against the wall, his bag under his arm, his face expressionless. There was no way of talking to him in private now. When the professor opened the doors, Cassiopeia slipped into her seat and took out her parchment and quill. She quickly scribbled a few words on the parchment and then vanished them with her wand. By now, Tom had taken his usual seat in the first row, right in front of her. Cassiopeia folded the parchment. Tom put his equipment on his desk and leaned back in his chair. Cassiopeia casually placed the folded parchment on the edge of her desk and then pushed her book slightly forward causing the parchment to fall to the floor. Tom heard the paper fall. He slowly turned and caught her eye before he quickly picked up the note. He turned back to his desk and smoothed out the parchment. It was empty. With a flick of his wand there appeared six words: 'Second floor girl's bathroom broken tap'. Tom stared at the writing, and with another flick of his wand he vanished it again.

* * *

Cassiopeia was desperately curious if the tap really was the key to the legendary Chamber of Secrets. But somehow, ever since she had given the parchment to Tom, there had been no chance to talk to him. It soon became evident that he avoided her on purpose. He was always surrounded by his cronies, knowing that she would never approach him when the Slytherin gang was around. He didn't come to the library or the prefects' common room any more. And he even ditched prefect duties, making sixth year Nott take his place.

And then the incidents started occurring. Repeatedly, Muggle-born students were being attacked under questionable circumstances. The whole school was at a loss for an explanation, but Cassiopeia had a vague idea who was responsible. She was sure Tom had succeeded in opening the Chamber of Secrets.

One evening in early June Cassiopeia was sitting on the windowsill in the otherwise empty prefects' common room and was looking out of the window, lost in her thoughts. Somewhere deep inside she felt disappointed that Tom hadn't shared his success with her. She knew she should be more concerned that she didn't feel guilty for knowing who was responsible for all the attacks and not telling the teachers who were frantically searching for the source of the present evil. She knew she should have a bad conscience but she didn't. Cassiopeia had never been evil; she had never shared the opinion that Muggle-borns were unworthy of magic. She knew that the attacks on them weren't right. But still she didn't find it in herself to even consider blaming Tom. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help it. She had grown attached to him in a way that scared her when she thought about it, but she didn't want things to change. If only Tom would finally understand that she was on his side. If only he could find it somewhere in himself to trust her. Cassiopeia bit her lip. His distrust hurt.

She heard the door open, and with a quick look she saw that Tom had just entered. She raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been in here for nearly a month. He walked over to the window where she was sitting.

"I suppose you finally opened it." Cassiopeia's voice was hollow.

Tom didn't answer.

"You could have told me at least, don't you think?" Cassiopeia turned around to look at Tom.

"Did it ever occur to you that I wouldn't want to risk both of us being expelled if we got caught?" Tom asked with his most innocent voice.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow again. "Nice try. But I know you don't care for anybody other than yourself."

Tom smirked but didn't respond.

"You don't trust me. After all this time you still don't trust me." Cassiopeia's voice was accusing. She left the windowsill and walked to the door. Tom wasn't sure but she sounded hurt. Thinking about it, he realized that, even though he didn't fully trust anybody, she was the one person he trusted the most. With a few quick strides Tom reached Cassiopeia before she could open the door. He grabbed her wrist and made her turn to face him. "I trust you most of all." His voice was hoarse. "That's the best I can offer."

* * *

The attacks on Muggle-borns continued, spreading fear among the student body and desperation among the staff. By mid-June numerous Muggle-born students had been attacked and injured, some of them quite severely, but Madam Malcolm had still been able to heal and cure them. But then, on June 13th, 1943, Olive Hornby found Myrtle Warren's body. The rumour spread like fire. When it reached Cassiopeia, she felt numb. It had finally happened. Tom had finally killed. She knew that deep inside she had been expecting something like this ever since the attacks had started. After all, Tom didn't have a conscience, and he had no empathy and no compassion. She knew she had feared that he wouldn't shy away from murder. But still, it was different when it finally came true. Cassiopeia swallowed. She only wanted to be alone. She left Ravenclaw tower and went to the empty prefects' common room. She sat down by the fireside and stared into the flames.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, when the door burst open and Tom entered. With a few quick strides he was standing next to her.

"Did you hear about that girl? It was that acromantula that this fool Hagrid kept in the dungeons. It was all that acromantula. Headmaster Dippet just expelled the culprit." Tom's voice was devoid of any emotion.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, but continued staring into the flames. "Lucky for you he is a fool."

Tom frowned and sat down on the armchair next to her. "I just wanted to make sure you had no other information."

Cassiopeia turned to Tom and looked into his eyes. They were as dark and empty as always. There wasn't the slightest sign of remorse. But then again, she hadn't expected any. She looked back at the flames and muttered, "I have no information that I am going to share."

Tom leaned back in his chair and watched Cassiopeia staring into the fire. She really was strange. He knew that his group of Slytherin friends suspected that he was involved in the incidents that had happened during the past weeks. But being as careful as he was they had neither any proof connecting him to the incidents nor the courage to ever mention anything, having been threatened the way they were. Cassiopeia on the other hand probably not only had proof connecting him with the Chamber of Secrets but also had neither been threatened nor intimidated by him. Still, she obviously didn't even consider turning him in. She was doing it of free will, and he failed to see why.

"Why?" Tom's voice was questioning.

Cassiopeia didn't look up. "That's nothing you could understand."

Tom felt his temper flare. He raised an eyebrow. "You had better be careful what you say."

Cassiopeia threw a glance at him, and a sad smile crossed her face. "It's all about caring for someone. I'm sure that's not common to you."

She took a book from the table next to her and started reading. Tom turned to stare into the flames of the fire. He knew she was right. He didn't care about others. He didn't care about Cassiopeia. He really didn't see the point of caring for someone. He accepted Cassiopeia's presence because he knew it might be helpful in the future. If he wanted to use her, he had to cope with her. But even though he didn't care for her, he had to admit that she was somehow special to him. She accepted him the way he was, neither wanting to change him nor wanting to stop him. She actually even tried to help him; she listened to him, to the things he said and to the things he left unsaid. Tom knew that feelings didn't exist for him. Everything he did was meant to help him on his way to power. After all, power was everything that counted. There was only power and those too weak to seek it. He didn't care for others, he only used them. That was the way it had always been. He didn't sort people into the ones he liked and the ones he disliked; he sorted them into the ones that were useful and the ones that needed to be disposed of. Tom wondered whether Cassiopeia really cared for him. At Hogwarts, many people fawned over the charming illusion he had created; but in his whole life nobody had ever cared for the person he truly was. He knew that Cassiopeia wasn't blinded by his façade and actually saw the darker sides of his self. And yet, she claimed to care for him. He couldn't help but feel an unfamiliar warmth spread very deep inside of him. He frowned and cast a sideways glance at Cassiopeia who was immersed in the book she was reading.


	4. Knowledge and memories

**Chapter Four - Knowledge and memories  
**

A month later summer break had started. Cassiopeia was sitting in the library of Houlton Manor. It was a huge and ancient library containing a seemingly endless amount of books on all possible subjects. Her father had never made any restrictions concerning the manor's library but Cassiopeia had always avoided the section of books on the Dark Arts. Now she was eyeing these rows of books warily. During the many hours they had spent together in Hogwarts' library Cassiopeia had realized that the only thing Tom was really afraid of was death itself. There was nothing he wanted as badly as to avoid dying. Although Cassiopeia didn't share his opinion that death was man's biggest weakness, she was determined to help him find his way to immortality. After all, she didn't want to lose him due to the Dark Arts the way she had lost her mother. Since the beginning of the break she had finally started looking through the books that she had always avoided up to now. Cassiopeia was running her fingers over the old yellowed pages of the book she was currently reading when a word stood out to her eyes that she had seen in several of the other books as well but which had never been elaborated. In this volume however, there was a whole paragraph on it. Horcruxes. Reading the passage, Cassiopeia sat up straight. When she had finished, she put the book down on the table and sat there lost in her thoughts.

Tom was sitting in his room in the orphanage. Cassiopeia had invited him to stay at her family's home during the summer holidays. Tom hadn't hesitated and had accepted her offer right away. Anything was better than being stuck in the detested orphanage. Tom eyed the books on his desk. He had managed to sneak some volumes out of Hogwarts and had brought them with him. The last one he had been reading was now lying next to him on the bed. It had been interesting but it still hadn't held the information he was searching for. He was definitely looking forward to going to Cassiopeia's home the next week. He had been a little surprised when she had invited him to stay some weeks of the summer break at her family's manor but he had accepted without thinking twice. He would have taken any chance to get out of and away from the wretched orphanage as far as he could. When he had gotten the chance to think about his stay at Houlton Manor he had been even more delighted. His Slytherin gang had once told him that many members of the Houltons had been in Slytherin. They were wealthy and pure-blooded. They surely would have a library consisting of interesting books. Maybe they would even have some that weren't found at Hogwarts, not even in the restricted section. He didn't want to get his hopes up too high but he still felt excited about his visit to Houlton Manor.

When Tom arrived at Houlton Manor a week later and his gaze fell on the huge manor, separated from the village on a small hill and surrounded by big trees that protected the manor, he felt hatred. It was present in his whole body, and he was reminded of his first encounter with Cassiopeia. "Why do you hate them all so much?" she had asked. He couldn't keep a frown from appearing on his blank and emotionless face. He knew that he never showed his hatred on his features. Still, Cassiopeia had somehow known about this feeling that was so ever present in his being. What would she say if she saw him now, again encased in this deep hatred? What would she say if she saw his hatred directed at her family's possessions? Somehow Tom couldn't help but feel that she wouldn't care. She always seemed so detached from his lack of emotions. She never seemed to mind and actually accepted it as a part of him. Tom exhaled sharply. No matter how hard he tried, she simply didn't make sense to him. Tom walked slowly towards the entrance of Houlton Manor. When he passed the gates, he felt the presence of strong and powerful magic. It made him feel at home. His magic flowed through his body and seemed to coincide with the magic that radiated from the house. Tom strode to the entrance and rang the bell. The door was opened by a house elf that shot him a short look and then bowed to him. "You must be Mr. Riddle. Please come in. I will inform the mistress immediately." The house elf motioned for him to enter. Tom stepped into the entrance hall. The house elf disappeared with a loud crack, leaving him on his own. He eyed the hall. In the middle there was a staircase that obviously led to the upper floor. While he was still looking at it, Cassiopeia appeared through a door on the right. "Hello Tom."

Tom nodded in reply and was glad that Cassiopeia wasn't a person of many words. She wouldn't expect him to talk and she wouldn't talk herself unless she had something worth saying.

"I'll show you to your room." Cassiopeia motioned for him to follow her. They went up the stairs and then to the right. Cassiopeia motioned to a door on her left. "That's my brother's room. Ceph will return tomorrow." Then she opened a door on the right. "Here you are. The bathroom is next door. If you need anything, call Dissy, the house elf. She'll be there." Cassiopeia turned to leave. "Dinner is at seven. Probably, my father is going to be there. We'll see." Then she closed the door behind her.

Tom turned around and eyed the room. He was surprised to find that it suited him rather well. It was dark and furnished with a huge wooden bed, a desk facing the window and a wardrobe on the opposite wall. The curtains and the sheets on the bed were in the Slytherin colours green and silver. Tom went over to the window and looked outside. He could see the front yard which he had passed on his way to the entrance. He saw that his trunk had already been put next to the wardrobe. Not intending to unpack, Tom turned around and left the room. When he was standing in the hallway again, he observed his surroundings. Opposite there was the door which obviously led to Cepheus Houlton's room. A little further down the corridor there was another door. Tom opened it and saw that it led to the bathroom, as Cassiopeia had said. Tom could see that the corridor took a corner. He was surprised to find that he couldn't round the corner, however. He saw a door at the end of the corridor, but the entrance to this corridor was magically warded. Tom slightly raised an eyebrow. Then he turned around and descended the stairs. Downstairs he turned to the right. He followed the corridor but all the doors were closed. He was just about to call the house elf when he saw that the door at the end of the corridor was open. He walked closer and saw that it led to the library. Already upon entering Tom could feel the magic that surrounded the books that were stored in all those shelves. He took a deep breath and felt his magic crackle with excitement at the presence of all of this ancient knowledge. To his delight he saw that there were many titles which were without doubt concerning the Dark Arts. Tom smirked. This library was paradise. This summer break would be special. No wasting away in the wretched orphanage but studying the Dark Arts without being disturbed by some silly homework on unimportant matters. Suddenly Tom realized that he wasn't alone. He turned around and saw Cassiopeia standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the doorframe and eyed him with interest. Somehow he disliked this scrutinizing gaze of hers. No matter how blank his face was, no matter how good an actor he was, he always had the impression that Cassiopeia saw right through his façade. Actually, it wasn't only an impression. More than once she had proved that she indeed seemed to see right into his true self. It was somehow unsettling.

"I thought you would like it," she stated.

Tom didn't reply. He eyed the shelves full of books longingly. Then he remembered the corridor upstairs and the magical wards that had been put on it. He didn't bother to conceal his curiosity since that effort would probably only be wasted on Cassiopeia. "Why is that corridor upstairs warded?"

For a moment Cassiopeia looked taken aback. Then she said, "There's my mother's room".

Tom raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

"It's been warded ever since she died."

"Your mother is dead?" Tom realized that he actually knew very little about her family.

"Yes."

Since Cassiopeia obviously didn't intend to continue, he asked, "How did that happen?"

Cassiopeia shrugged. "Some dark spell backfired, I suppose."

Tom looked at her. For once, it was Cassiopeia whose face was emotionless. Then Cassiopeia turned around and said, "It's time for dinner."

When Tom was lying in his bed later that evening he thought about what had happened earlier. Cassiopeia's father hadn't talked much during dinner. In fact, he had only made some polite small talk. Then he had left for his study. Tom and Cassiopeia had spent the rest of the evening in the library, with all the gorgeous books that could be found there.

* * *

Tom had been more than pleased to find out that Houlton Manor was not far away from Little Hangleton, the place he had managed to locate his mother's family's home in. After having investigated the surroundings for a few days, Tom had finally decided on his next actions. He had sneaked out of Houlton Manor after dinner, being careful not to alert anyone to his absence, and had gone to Little Hangleton where he had found the Gaunt's shack, had talked to his uncle Morfin, then had set out to Riddle Manor, had killed his father and grandparents, had returned to Morfin, had altered Morfin's memory and taken his grandfather Marvolo's ring.

When Tom returned to Houlton Manor, intending to sneak back in through the back door, he saw a curtain in one of the upper floor rooms move. He sighed. It was Cassiopeia's room. What was the silly girl doing up this late? Why ever was she looking out of the window? He would have to make up some story about where he had been. Generally, that wasn't a problem for him. He was a master in acting and lying, after all. But, annoyingly, his skill never seemed to work as well on Cassiopeia as on all the others. Somehow she seemed to immediately know when he was lying. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. He had told her so many lies, had tried it in so many different ways, being serious, being nonchalant, being simpering, being threatening. However, most of it hadn't worked. Thinking about it, actually, none of it had worked. She had always seen through it, sometimes it had only taken her a little longer. It was annoying. But then again, somehow it was intriguing.

Right in this moment, however, he tended to find it only annoying. What he had just done wasn't the kind of thing he actually wanted her to know. There it was again, he thought, his inability to trust. He snorted. He didn't want her to know because it was a risk. Why shouldn't she use this information against him? It definitely was what he would do. It was what he had always done. His plans had worked out so well this far because he had never been connected to any of the incidents happening around him. This old fool Dumbledore had always been suspicious, but he had never had any proof. That was essential. Having Cassiopeia know these things about him, gave her a power he definitely didn't want her to have. He had to avoid it at all costs, but he simply didn't see how he should do that. He stood there contemplating things, his mind racing at its usual incredible speed. She would find out, he was sure of that. The only way he could avoid that was to use magic on her. He needed to curse her and alter her memory. He had contemplated that more than once already. There were various things he would have preferred being unknown to Cassiopeia. He had always decided against using magic so far, not because of his non-existent conscience but because of what might happen if she prevented him from performing his curse. He definitely was quite confident that he would succeed in cursing her without her noticing. Although he had to admit that she was a very capable witch, he knew that he was far more powerful than she was. He also had the surprise on his side because she probably wouldn't expect him to do anything like that. Still, on the off chance that he couldn't do as planned, he couldn't imagine what that might do to her loyalty towards him. So far, their relationship had done without threats, intimidation and curses. Besides the one time that he had used the Cruciatus Curse on her during their duel back then in the prefects' common room he had never cast an ill-intentioned curse on her. She had been loyal to him of her own free will. She had helped him voluntarily doing much of the research concerning the Chamber of Secrets. She had known about his sinister personality all along, had never opposed him, had always backed him. As strange as it felt and as incredible as it was for him, he had to admit that he didn't want to lose her faith.

Tom felt his temper flare. He couldn't believe his own thoughts. He would overpower her easily when it was needed. He quickly went to the entrance of Houlton Manor and slipped into his guest room without being disturbed by anyone.

* * *

The next morning Tom decided to skip breakfast and went directly to the library. After all, it was the library because of which Cassiopeia had invited him to Houlton Manor. There were so many ancient books, so many of them being about the Dark Arts that he could have stayed for days on end. Tom went to the shelves and fetched a volume on especially dark magic. He stopped in his tracks when he realized he wasn't alone. He turned around only to find Cassiopeia sitting in an armchair next to the fireside, her legs pulled up on the seat, watching him. Apparently she had been waiting for him. Tom felt his temper flare again, and he had to suppress the desire to curse her without further thinking just there and then. Cassiopeia just sat there looking at him. Tom had just decided to draw his wand to get it over with when Cassiopeia did what she apparently had a talent for – she surprised him.

"You might find what you are looking for in Volume III."

Tom refrained from pulling his wand out of his pocket. Instead he stared at Cassiopeia. "And what would that be?"

"A way to immortality."

Tom's features didn't change. "Why do you think that's what I'm looking for?" Tom slowly went towards Cassiopeia, pulled another chair close to hers and sat down.

Cassiopeia cocked her head and looked into Tom's eyes. "Sometimes I think you don't know me at all. Sometimes I think _you_ think I don't know _you_ at all. Your striving for immortality is so present in all your actions, in all…you. How could I ever miss that?" For a moment silence filled the room before Cassiopeia continued. "I once told you that you won't understand why I act like I act. That's still true today. I doubt that you will ever understand but you could just take into account that I am the way I am." She looked resigned.

Tom got up and went to the shelf again. He pulled out Volume III and returned to his seat. Without saying a word, he handed the book to Cassiopeia. She took it and equally wordlessly opened a certain page. Then she handed it back to Tom and left the library. Tom looked down on the page she had opened. It read "Horcruxes".

* * *

Cassiopeia hadn't seen Tom for the rest of the day. She supposed he had been in the library, probably reading the section on Horcruxes over and over again. After all, that was what he had been looking for so anxiously for quite some time lately. Cassiopeia turned to close the curtains of her room. Standing there, she looked out on the grounds. She remembered how she had seen Tom return late last night. She had wondered where he had been. The question had been answered soon enough when she had seen the small article in the Daily Prophet the next morning, stating that the supposedly insane pureblood wizard Morfin Gaunt had been arrested for murdering three wealthy Muggles in Little Hangleton without reason. That was just so Tom, framing his uncle.

Cassiopeia pulled the curtains shut and went to bed. She put her wand under her pillow. She had grown used to that precaution due to her constant fear that Tom might find her too inconvenient one day. Deep inside she was somehow expecting him to try and curse her every night. So far he had never shown up, at least not that she had noticed. She had been researching protecting spells for a long time and had tried to perform a protection charm concerning her memory a while ago. Unfortunately, she didn't know if it had worked. She would probably only find out when Tom finally decided to curse her into oblivion.

Cassiopeia had the strong feeling that connecting him to the Little Hangleton murders was probably a new peak of her being inconvenient to him. Little did he know that she couldn't care less about him murdering some Muggles. Little did he know that he could do almost anything he wanted and she would still back him and stand up for him. That was the problem with his inability to care for anyone. He just couldn't understand the feeling and what it did to a person. Cassiopeia didn't mind that Tom didn't feel the way she felt. She didn't mind that Tom would probably never care for her the way she cared for him. It just wasn't in his character. It just wasn't him. However, that didn't keep her from caring for him the way she did. It didn't hurt that he didn't care, but it hurt that he didn't understand. She felt that this lack of understanding was Tom's biggest flaw, his biggest weakness; probably the only real weakness he had. She had tried to show him this weakness, to make him see that it was dangerous to underestimate the consequences that came from caring and the lack thereof, but so far she had failed tremendously. She sighed. Everything would have been so much easier if she had never even talked to Tom. It would have been so much easier if she hadn't grown attached to him the way she had. But, on the other hand, then she would have missed so much. There was so much she had learned from Tom, so much she had understood with his help although that had probably gone unnoticed by Tom. He simply made her world a better place. With these thoughts Cassiopeia fell asleep.

Tom had actually been in the library for the rest of the day. The passage on Horcruxes Cassiopeia had found was exactly what he had been searching for. He had read and reread the passage innumerable times, taking in all the information there was. He would have to do further research, but the concept of Horcruxes was what he wanted and needed. He would have to talk to Professor Slughorn about it. Maybe he would get further information there. After all, it was an act of profoundly dark magic that was really risky to perform. He had to make sure nothing went wrong, which brought him to the next problem. Cassiopeia. He still wasn't sure what to do about her. She was a damn risk. She was a ticking time bomb. He would have to act sometime. He was furious with himself that it had already taken him so much time contemplating and that he still hadn't acted. That just wasn't him. The day he had realized what a risk she was should have been the day he had disposed of her. That would have been him. Not this contemplating and hesitating waverer.

Tom quietly walked up to Cassiopeia's room and drew his wand. He opened the door and entered the room without any noise. Casting a quick look around, he saw that she was asleep. With a few quick strides he stood beside her bed.

The moment he cast the curse on her he instantly knew that something was wrong. The curse hadn't worked. Cassiopeia had awoken, drawn her wand and cast a curse at Tom which he had deflected with a flick of his wand. For some seconds they stared at each other, wands drawn and pointing at each other.

Then Cassiopeia said, "Put your wand down."

Tom sneered, "You first."

Neither of them lowered their wand.

Tom glared at her. "You first," he repeated.

Cassiopeia slowly shook her head, "No, you do it first. I'm not the one that came sneaking into your room, trying to curse you while you were asleep." She held his gaze.

He was furious. But he slowly lowered his wand. Seeing that, Cassiopeia put her wand down as well. They still stared at each other.

Finally, Cassiopeia said, "So what now?"

Tom didn't answer, his face a cold and unreadable mask.

"I know what you wanted to do and I know why." Cassiopeia shook her head. "You really have a problem with your trust."

Tom's face was still a blank mask. His voice was deadly calm when he said, "What did you do to you?"

The coldness of his voice made Cassiopeia shiver. With a hoarse voice she answered, "I protected my memory. I once told you I don't like others to mess with my mind."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't make you very trustworthy."

Cassiopeia snapped, "But I would have been trustworthy if I hadn't even known you in the morning? What did you want to do? Make me believe I invited you because of your charming personality? Make me believe I didn't invite you at all and leave without further notice? No wait, that would make you lose our library….tell me, what story was on your mind?"

"Shut up." Tom's voice was colder than ever.

"Charming as ever, aren't you?"

Tom glared at her and she saw his wand twitch in his hand. She pressed her lips together. She knew she was walking on very thin ice. "I offer you a deal."

"I'm listening."

"I let you in. You see for yourself. And then you promise me you will never try to mess with my mind again. And you mean it."

Tom considered her offer. Finally, he answered, "You let me in without any restrictions. You let me look at whatever I want to. No shields at all. And any promises I only make afterwards. If you break any of these rules I swear you will regret it."

Cassiopeia looked at him. She took a deep breath. "Do it." She closed her eyes and concentrated hard on keeping all her mental barriers down. She tried to stay calm when she felt Tom enter her mind. She could feel his fury, raw and merciless. He ripped ruthlessly through her mind for what felt like ages. When he finally retreated, she was exhausted. It had cost a lot of strength to keep her mental shields down. It was like suppressing a reflex. Cassiopeia lay back down on her pillow and opened her eyes.

Tom was staring at her. Although his face was almost as emotionless as ever, she could see something in his eyes that looked like disbelief.

"Now, do you promise?"

Tom glared at her. Finally, he said, "I do." Then he turned and left the room without another word.

Tom went to his room, closed the door and sat down at the desk. He pulled his wand from his pocket and twirled it in his long fingers. He thought about what had just happened. He remembered the cold fury he had felt when he had realized that his curse hadn't worked. He had thought that this was the confirmation that Cassiopeia was going to betray him one day. He had been so very close to cursing her again, to show her what his Cruciatus Curse felt like when he really meant it. Actually, he didn't know why he hadn't done it. When she had finally offered to open her mind, he had been suspicious. When he had accepted the deal, he had been determined to make her pay. He knew she was hurting when he broke through her mind. He didn't care. He was determined to see it all. And so he did. He saw all her emotions, her feelings, her thoughts, her memories. He sensed that she really struggled to keep her shields down, that she really tried to let him go wherever he wanted. When he finally retreated, he had seen more than he had ever thought. He had seen, but he hadn't understood. He still didn't understand. But he knew that she was no threat to him. He finally knew for sure that he could trust her, that he could rely on her. He also knew that there was something he would have to try to understand, something important. Something that made her act all irrationally and that was so much in his favour. Tom smirked. Things had turned out better than what he could ever have hoped for.

* * *

For the rest of the holidays Tom had tried to find as much information on Horcruxes as he could possibly gather. He grew more and more convinced that a Horcrux was exactly what he needed. When they were back at Hogwarts he impatiently waited for the first chance to ask Slughorn what he knew about Horcruxes and their creation. He didn't have to wait for long. The third week after school had started, Slughorn hosted a welcome party for his Slug Club. Tom made sure to be the last guest to leave the party.

After his conversation with Slughorn Tom closed the office door behind him and started walking down the corridor.

"So you really asked him, didn't you?" Cassiopeia's voice echoed through the empty corridor.

Tom stopped in his tracks and turned around. Slowly, he moved towards where Cassiopeia was standing in the shadows of an alcove. "I wouldn't know what you are talking about, would I?" He asked calmly, his face showing no sign of emotion.

"You don't need to bother with the masquerade, there's no one here but me." She hissed. "I can't believe you really asked him. Ripping your soul in so many parts is going to destroy you. No one, not even you, is going to stand that. There must be other means to gain immortality. You can't do that."

Tom took a step forward. His face showed no emotion and neither did his voice. Nevertheless, she could sense the subtle threat when he said, "Don't make me regret that I told you."

She looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of emotion. When she found none, she suppressed a sigh and bit her lip. She left the alcove. When she was right next to him, she whispered, "I won't get in your way, don't worry. It's your choice; it always is."

Her footsteps echoed through the corridor and slowly died away when she rounded the corner. Tom stared after her. For a second he wondered if she might be right. Then he shook his head and went back to his dorm.

When Cassiopeia crawled into her bed that night, she felt crestfallen. She was convinced that she would lose Tom to his striving for immortality someday. She had spent hours on end in the library, trying to come up with anything that would keep Tom from going through with his plan of creating Horcruxes. She had read countless books to provide him with a different way of immortality. She desperately wanted to make him abandon his Horcrux making. But she had come up with nothing. There seemed to be no other means than Horcruxes to gain true immortality. Cassiopeia silently sobbed and drew her blanket closer.

She had vehemently cursed the day when she had shown Tom the paragraph on Horcruxes at least a million times, knowing that without having read that paragraph Tom would be much further away from any possibility of making a Horcrux. Cassiopeia felt torn. She really wanted Tom to get what he craved so desperately. After all, that was why she had shown him the book in the first place. Nevertheless, she dreaded the consequences that would doubtlessly come with splitting his soul. After all the research they had done in the last weeks, Cassiopeia felt that the soul was a very risky thing to temper with. She believed that the soul was the true core of any living being. After all, it was the soul that made the ghosts being ghosts and kept them attached to the world after their death. However, Tom somehow seemed to completely ignore this. He denied the soul to be of any significance. He was convinced that he was so powerful and strong that splitting his soul wouldn't have any effect on him. With horror Cassiopeia remembered the night when Tom had told her about his idea of splitting his soul more than once in order to gain absolute immortality. While he had talked about the invincibility he would gain through the creation of various Horcruxes, Cassiopeia had felt sick. It hadn't been the thought that Tom would have to commit many more murders to create those Horcruxes, although deep inside, she knew that she should honestly be concerned about her worrisome lack of conscience in regard to Tom's disdain for life. But she had been much more concerned about what all those splits would do to Tom. Of course he had been oblivious to her concern. After their conversation, Cassiopeia had spent every minute of spare time in the library, desperately searching for other ways of gaining immortality, knowing that it was the only way out of this misery. But she had come up with nothing. She was at a dead end.


	5. Denial

**Chapter Five - Denial  
**

Barely three weeks had passed since Tom's conversation with Slughorn. Cassiopeia was sitting in the library doing some research for her Transfiguration homework when Tom walked up to her table.

"I want you to come with me," he said in a low voice.

Cassiopeia looked up. He motioned her to follow him. Cassiopeia got up, and they left the library.

"Where are we going?" Cassiopeia asked.

"No idea?" Tom smirked. He took her down to the second floor girls' bathroom. "I thought you wanted to see. So now you are going to." He made sure they were alone in the bathroom. Then he cast a quick silencing and locking spell on the door and turned to the sinks. Cassiopeia watched as he hissed something in Parseltongue and the sinks disappeared, revealing an opening in the floor.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Cassiopeia whispered. "I thought you said it wouldn't be safe to open it again."

"I said it wouldn't be safe to set the basilisk free again. But the basilisk will only come when it's called. I don't intend to call it tonight." Tom motioned her to move forward. Cassiopeia slowly went to the rim of the opening in the floor. Then she cast a spell that slowed her fall and slid into the hole. Tom followed her, closing the opening with another command in Parseltongue.

When she entered the Chamber, Cassiopeia was overwhelmed by the beauty and grandeur of the place. "It's gorgeous," she whispered, looking around in awe.

Tom didn't answer. When Cassiopeia turned to face him, she saw that he was holding his wand in one hand and a black leather book in the other. Cassiopeia instantly flinched. "What are you doing?"

Tom didn't look at her. "I am going to do it now. I need you to be here if anything goes wrong. You are the only one who knows about this, and you are the only one I rely on if the incantation doesn't work the way it is supposed to work. Now stand aside," he commanded.

Cassiopeia felt her heart sink. She had known this day would come and she had dreaded it. But she knew that nothing would keep Tom from doing what he intended to do. She was relieved that, at least, he had brought her here and hadn't gone alone. It meant a lot to her, and she knew that it meant a lot that Tom had done it.

Wordlessly she stepped aside and watched as Tom put the black book on the floor. He closed his eyes and concentrated hard. Then he started performing the required incantation. Light erupted from his wand and filled the whole room. Cassiopeia watched in horror as Tom bent over growling in agony and fell to his knees, tormented by pain, when something left his body and entered the book. The air was heavy with the excruciating screams that Tom wasn't able to hold back. Cassiopeia had never seen him like this before. She pressed her back against the wall, only wanting his pain to end. Tom panted heavily, his face paler than ever, his eyes squeezed shut, kneeling next to the book. When Cassiopeia was sure that nothing more was going to happen, she slowly walked over to Tom, crouching beside him. She considered putting an arm around him but immediately decided against it. She knew he would despise it. So she just waited and listened to his breathing. She didn't know how long they had been crouching there when Tom finally looked up and straight into her eyes. In his eyes there was burning a longing she had never seen before. In an instant Tom had bent forward and pressed his lips against hers. Cassiopeia was surprised, but she didn't care for his motives. Tom pushed her down to the cold stone floor, the kiss getting more and more feverish. It felt like being in a trance. Cassiopeia wished time would stop and this moment would last forever, but finally he let go of her.

"Whatever happens, you are mine." Tom's voice was hoarse. "Never forget that."

Cassiopeia looked into his eyes. The longing was gone and they were as blank as ever.

* * *

Tom didn't understand what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. He didn't know what had gotten into him and made him kiss Cassiopeia. It hadn't been him. He had felt such a strange longing. He had acted out of pure instinct. And it had felt so right although he thought it was all wrong.

Tom was sure it was connected to the procedure of making the Horcrux. He only failed to see why. Why would splitting his already torn soul and preserving it in another item make him want to kiss that damn girl so badly? It didn't make any sense, at least not to him. Tom pondered if he should ask Cassiopeia. Maybe she would come up with an explanation. After all, it wasn't as if she didn't know him. After having seen her mind, Tom knew that Cassiopeia saw through his charming façade and right into the cold black darkness that was his true self. She wouldn't think that he had kissed her because he had suddenly grown a heart.

Cassiopeia sat in the Ravenclaw common room by the fireside and stared into the fire. She needed time to think this through, to get her thoughts straight. This kiss down there in the Chamber of Secrets; that hadn't been Tom, that couldn't have been him. Cassiopeia remembered the first time he had kissed her, back then in the prefects' common room. That one had been different. He had done it on purpose, calculatingly, at least in the beginning. Cassiopeia remembered that he had lingered only so much longer than he had probably intended. But this time, back down in the Chamber of Secrets, it hadn't been on purpose. She had seen it in his eyes; it had been pure instinct, not a conscious decision. And that was so not like Tom. She wondered what had happened. It surely was connected to the procedure of making the Horcrux. She had been sure that it would do something, even to Tom. He was powerful and strong but ripping the soul apart had to damage even him. And it had. He had acted in a way he would never have acted had he been fully himself. Cassiopeia sat there, looking at the flames, lost in her thoughts. When she finally went to bed, it was way past midnight.

* * *

Tom and Cassiopeia were sitting in the far corner of the library, close to the restricted section and were reading books they had sneaked out of said section. They had covered the books with disillusionment charms so they wouldn't attract attention. Cassiopeia was drumming her fingers on the table while she was reading. Suddenly, without looking up from his book, Tom's hand snapped forward and pressed her hand against the table, stopping her drumming. "Stop it, you're getting on my nerves", he commanded in a low voice.

Cassiopeia pulled her hand away. She ignored his irritation. "I think I found something interesting."

Tom looked up. When Cassiopeia didn't continue, Tom pressed exasperatedly, "Go on."

"Here it says that the procedure of creating a Horcrux is highly mutilating to the soul. The procedure won't go unanswered by the soul. Mainly, the mutilated soul will desperately try to heal and in the process will be flooded with an amount of emotions that is likely to overflow in the attempt to replace the part of the soul that has been ripped away. The soul gets so prominent in this procedure that the conscious decisions fall behind and have to give way to the utmost inner and unconscious emotions…" Cassiopeia's voice trailed away.

Tom stared at her in open disbelief. "That cannot be right," he hissed. "I have no emotions. I never had. You know that." His voice was getting ever so slightly piercing, "You know that."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "It's not me who wrote that." She shoved the book over to Tom, pointing at the passage she had been summarizing.

Tom glared at the page, taking in the words he couldn't believe. Then he shook his head. "There must be another explanation. This book isn't right."

Cassiopeia shrugged again, "Maybe. But you can't deny that it makes sense even though you don't like it."

Tom stared at the page, cold fury slowly building up in him. Then he got up, grabbed his things and left the library without another word.

Cassiopeia stared after him. Under her breath she whispered, "Is it really that impossible?"

Somewhere deep inside she felt a feeling stir that hadn't been there before. It was hope. Hope, that maybe, one day, she still had the chance that he would finally care for her, at least a little.

Tom was furious, deeply furious. How could his own body betray him like this? He wasn't supposed to have any emotions, at least none like that. He had never felt any; he had never missed any. It wasn't right. Some first years stumbled across his path to the Slytherin dungeons. He flicked his wand and they bent over in pain. With another flick of his wand they started accusing one another not paying any attention to him. Tom smirked.

When he reached the dungeons, he hissed the password and entered. Avery and Lestrange were sitting by the fireside, playing chess. They looked up, but when they saw the look on his face, they hurried to look down again. He obviously wasn't in the mood to be disturbed. Tom walked over to the two boys.

Twirling his wand in his hand, he said, "Tell me something useful you did today." His voice was cold and sharp.

Avery and Lestrange exchanged looks. "We….have been playing chess," Avery stammered.

Tom raised his eyebrows. "And what exactly do you think is useful about that?" he inquired, his voice getting even colder.

"Nothing…," Avery looked at Lestrange for support.

"We'll immediately go and find something useful to do," Lestrange jumped up from his seat and pulled Avery with him.

"Yes," Avery nodded.

When the two had left, Tom smirked. He already felt more at ease. He sat down at the table where the two had been playing chess and leaned back. He thought about the things Cassiopeia had said and the passage he had reread. She was right, no matter how much he didn't want it, this whole thing still made sense, somehow. But could it really be that his aching soul would make him want to kiss that damn girl so badly? Why on earth should he want that? Why on earth would that help his soul? He remembered the words Cassiopeia had muttered when he had left the library. She hadn't intended for him to hear, he was sure, but he had heard it none the less. Was it actually that impossible? Thinking about it, she was probably the only individual he could ever come close to something as liking. He definitely didn't care whether she was pretty or not. If there was anything he would consider attractive about her it was her brains and the fact that she actually cared for him, even though she knew his true self. Besides, she dared to keep her opinion even if it opposed his and even though she had witnessed more than once what happened to people who opposed him. Somehow he had approved of that courage. He knew that her not backing down had eventually helped him broaden his understanding of magic.

* * *

The small ray of hope that Cassiopeia had felt was shattered soon enough. If she had hoped that Tom might reconsider his opinion on souls, she was disappointed. He discarded what had happened down in the Chamber of Secrets and chose to ignore the effects that the procedure had had on his soul. Not wanting to admit that his soul was no less vulnerable than any other soul, he preferred to never mention the events again.

Tom and Cassiopeia were sitting at their usual table in the library, books spread on the table in front of them. However, they weren't reading. Tom was staring at Cassiopeia, a hint of anger in his eyes. "You know that I don't feel like others do. I don't have to explain that to you, do I?"

"No, you don't. But even in the darkest night there are rays of light; even inside of you. I know you don't want it, but still it may be there. You don't know what you miss out on."

Tom snorted. "I don't miss out on anything. It's a bloody weakness."

"No, it's not. It's an opportunity. Emotions are able to invigorate your magic. How can you be so oblivious to that? Your magic could be invincible if you combined it with emotion."

"I already combine it with hate, and I should think that makes my magic powerful enough. I don't need any other emotion."

"I would never question the power of your magic. But hate is destructive. That's just not the same."

"Any other feeling than hate makes you vulnerable. I can see nothing invincible about that."

"Emotions make you feel whole. You only use your full potential if you allow feelings into your magic."

"You sound pathetic."

"Your ignorance is pathetic."

They were at a dead end, again. Cassiopeia put her head on her hands. Without looking at him, she knew he was watching her with these empty eyes, these mockingly empty eyes, devoid of any emotion, as always. He made it really hard to believe that he would ever comprehend the significance of emotion. If it hadn't been for the incident in the Chamber of Secrets she would by now have been convinced that there was really nothing but darkness inside of him. It was only for this burning passion back then in the Chamber that she didn't want to give up on the hope that one day he would finally understand that certain emotions could conquer death and that allowing them wasn't a weakness but an opportunity.

* * *

A few weeks later Tom was standing in front of the row of sinks in the girls' bathroom on the second floor again. He had cast a locking and a silencing charm on the door. A genuine smile graced his features when he traced the small engraved snake on one of the sinks with his pale long fingers. Then he whispered a command in Parseltongue, and the sinks revealed the opening that led to the Chamber of Secrets. Tom smoothly slid inside and sealed the opening with another short command in Parseltongue, leaving behind nothing but a deserted bathroom. Down in the Chamber of Secrets he sat down and relished the grandeur of the place. He felt even more powerful down here, in the presence of the magic of his great ancestor. Tom twirled the golden ring on his finger and finally took it off, examining it. The black stone hadn't reacted to any of the spells Tom had tried on it, and he had come to the conclusion that it was simply a stone though he wasn't quite satisfied with that conclusion. Surely, there had to be more to it. But, nevertheless, Tom felt safe to make the ring his second Horcrux. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the necessary incantation that would undoubtedly cause him so much pain again. He carefully placed the ring on the floor in front of him. Then he looked up at the statue of Salazar Slytherin. This time, it would only be this stone statue that would witness his weakness. With horror Tom remembered the longing he had experienced last time and his inexcusable instinctive behaviour. He still hated the memory of that night. He had been out of his own control, and that angered him to no end. He hadn't been able to stop himself. Tom didn't want any of this to ever happen again. He would never risk acting like that again. He wouldn't risk showing any weakness again. This time, he was alone. He wouldn't be able to act foolishly.

Tom was confident that already being used to the procedure would make things easier. He took another deep breath and started to whisper the necessary incantation. Immediately, he felt the same agony he had experienced last time. It was almost unbearable. He bent over, clutching his wand and panting heavily. He felt his soul burn and scream as it was ripped apart and out of his body. Being overwhelmed by a deep, desperate pain he could do nothing but join in the scream of agony. Tom realized that if he had thought that being alone in the Chamber would rid him of the undesired longing he had experienced last time, he had been wrong. The desperate longing was burning within him again, possibly even worse than before. Not being able to give in to it, he took to digging his fingers into the cold stone floor, letting his scream of fury and agony fill the halls of the Chamber of Secrets and only wanting the pain to end.

After what seemed an eternity he felt everything go back to normal. And again he chose to ignore what had happened. He was glad that he had gone alone because he didn't want Cassiopeia to know that he still had not mastered this final weakness.


	6. Masquerade

**Chapter Six - Masquerade  
**

It was already early December, and outside it was snowing. Tom was sitting in the Slytherin Common room and reading a book. As usual, the other students spared the seats around him, leaving him his space. A group of girls was sitting at a table a little away. They were chatting excitedly. Tom didn't mean to listen to the silly banter, but his ears suddenly caught a name that raised his interest. Without looking up from his book he listened in to the whispered conversation the girls were having, eyeing them from the corner of his eye.

"I absolutely don't know why he even wastes his time on her. He could do so much better," Andromeda Yaxley was saying, flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder and clearly thinking of herself.

The other girls nodded their consent.

"She's nothing special. Her looks are more than average and she's absolutely boring," Persephone Nott chimed in.

"She did not even make it into Slytherin despite her pure blood. How poor is that," Yaxley sniggered.

The other girls joined laughing.

Tom couldn't suppress a smirk. These superficial fools. They didn't know anything. If they saw his true face, they would lower their accurately made-up eyes and run for their lives. If they knew what Cassiopeia knew they wouldn't fancy him but fear him. People were so easily deceived by looks; sometimes Tom couldn't believe it. They knew nothing and still they had the nerve to judge. An evil grin flashed across Tom's handsome face. One day he would make those idiots pay. He would make them pay dearly.

* * *

When Christmas break approached, the students grew more and more excited. Headmaster Dippet had announced that there would be a Yule ball the weekend before the holidays. There was a committee preparing the event, and the ball seemed to be the only topic of conversation available among the student body.

Cassiopeia was sitting in the library trying to finish her Herbology homework when Tom slipped into the seat next to her and leaned back. He watched her writing her essay for a moment before he asked, "So, do you already have a date for the Yule Ball?"

Without looking up from her parchment she answered, "No, I don't." She continued writing. "What about you? I guess you are spoilt for choice. After all, who wouldn't want to go with charming Mr. Perfect?"

Tom chose to ignore her sarcasm. "That's exactly the problem. These brainless fools and their silly behaviour around me already make me sick, and the ball hasn't even started yet." He paused. "You go to the ball with me."

It wasn't a question, and Cassiopeia knew he didn't expect an answer. She looked up from her parchment, arching an eyebrow. Tom smirked. "I need a date that doesn't make me want to curse life out of her before the end of the evening. This whole ball is despicable enough without it ruining my reputation. Unlike them, you don't expect anything that I'm not about to give."

Cassiopeia sighed. "Your honesty is really disillusioning."

* * *

Cassiopeia didn't know how but word about her being Tom Riddle's date for the Yule ball spread fast, making her the target of many hostile glares of a good part of Hogwarts' female population, especially the Slytherins. However, she strongly suspected that Tom was responsible because he wanted to get rid of the other girls' attempts to gain his attention.

When the day of the ball was finally there, Cassiopeia was nervous. Her roommates had been chattering about what they were going to wear for days, and they were rummaging through the dorm excitedly, helping each other get ready, fixing their hair and applying make-up. Cassiopeia put on the dress she had chosen and performed some hair fixing and make-up spells. She had spent some time in the library researching those spells, and she was quite pleased with the result of her effort. Tom was undoubtedly going to look impeccable, as always. For him, the whole evening was nothing but a grand stage for his acting skills, and he was surely expecting her to not ruin his performance. She knew she was only dressing up for the others. She sighed. On Tom, all her effort would be wasted after all.

Tom was waiting outside the Great Hall. He was leaning against the wall, surrounded by his gang of Slytherins. The others were all nervously watching the staircase, waiting for their dates to arrive. Tom suppressed a contemptuous smirk. These were the heirs of Britain's wealthiest pure-blood wizarding families. And there they were, waiting impatiently for some equally superficial brainless pure-blood witch. They were all just so pathetic. He glanced at the boys of the other houses who were all acting pretty much the same. Tom felt the familiar hatred rise inside his chest. They were all so powerless compared to him. They didn't even deserve their pure-blood status. They took everything for granted and offered nothing in return, nothing but a line of pure wizarding blood. Just when he thought that the contempt was going to make him explode, the others moved to the staircase in excitement. Tom sneered. Obviously, the first girls had finally decided to grace the waiting crowd of hormone-driven fools with their presence. Tom's eyes moved over the girls. Most of them were wearing too much make-up, clearly hoping to attract attention. The sight made Tom sick. For him, enduring this whole evening had only one purpose – making sure that the old fool of Headmaster would make him next year's Head Boy. Tom's eyes swept over the crowd of girls once again. Cassiopeia had better show up soon. He despised tardiness. Then he spotted her behind the group of arriving girls. She kept her distance to the chattering crowd, just as always. He smirked. He knew she disliked crowds, probably not as much as he did, but contrary to him she had trouble hiding it. While she made her way over to him, he had to admit that she was really looking presentable. When she stood in front of him, he pushed away from the wall and offered her his arm. She took it, and together they went into the Great Hall. It was excessively decorated, and music was playing. When all the students had finally filed in, the Headmaster gave a speech. After he had finished, Tom led Cassiopeia over to the dance floor. The music was playing a waltz and Tom held out his hand for Cassiopeia. She took it, and he started moving over the dance floor in a fluid waltz.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Really, is there anything you are not perfect at?"

Tom smirked, but didn't answer. He looked at Dippet and Slughorn sitting at the staff table and nodded towards the teachers in greeting. Dippet and Slughorn nodded back at them. Slughorn smiled and waved his hand in Tom's and Cassiopeia's direction while saying something to Dippet. Tom looked at Cassiopeia. It was obvious that she didn't want the attention he was currently attracting. "You really have to improve your acting skills. Even if you don't like this you have to convince Dippet that you do or else you won't become Head Girl next year," he teased.

Cassiopeia didn't respond. Tom's smirk grew wider. He could plainly see why the Sorting Hat hadn't put Cassiopeia in Slytherin despite her pure blood. She severely lacked the necessary cunning for the house of snakes. However, he would ensure that Dippet would make the right choice. He just wouldn't stand it if he had to endure any of those simpering idiots being Head Girl next to him. He had to get Cassiopeia being Head Girl for his own sake.

Cassiopeia let her gaze wander over the Great Hall. Most people were dancing and enjoying themselves. The music was now playing a slow waltz. Cassiopeia felt her body burn under the touch of Tom's hands. He was so close to her; she could smell his scent and feel his breath. His body was warm against hers, and she felt his heart beating inside his chest, steadily and reassuringly, feigning a normality that didn't exist. The illusion he was creating was so intoxicating and comforting that she desperately wished it would be more than just a perfectly acted performance and they could just be like the couples around them. She closed her eyes and wanted nothing more than that he would never let go.

* * *

Later that evening, Tom and Cassiopeia were standing at the Slytherin table, observing the dancing crowd. Suddenly, Tom felt a slight nudge in his side and a shrill voice exclaimed, "Oh, look at that! There's the mistletoe right above our heads!" He slowly turned around to see Olive Hornby standing only inches away from him, with her heavily made-up lips and eyes, gesturing towards a mistletoe that was floating above their heads and that certainly hadn't been there moments before. Thanks to her piercing voice the students around him had stopped their conversation and now watched them curiously. With a quick glance at the staff table Tom noticed that even some of the teachers were paying attention. Tom plastered his most charming smile on his face and quickly reached out for Olive's hand. With his sweetest voice he purred, "What a delightful coincidence, Miss Hornby. You look stunning tonight. Let me kiss your hand because I wouldn't want to ruin that wonderful make-up of yours." With a slight bow he brushed his lips on the back of her hand. Olive turned dark red and lowered her eyes. This was clearly not what she had hoped for, but there was no way she could complain. Tom kept his polite smile in place but Cassiopeia could feel his magic shake uncontrollably. For the first time ever the vibrancy of his magic truly scared her. It was unstable in a way she had never experienced before. Usually, Tom always had full control over his magic. Now it was violently lashing out, trying to break free.

* * *

Christmas break came and went and all too soon the daily routine was back. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were sharing a long Potions lesson. At the beginning of the school year Slughorn had paired them up according to their grades and thus, Cassiopeia and Tom had ended up sharing a table. Tom's performance at the Yule Ball had made quite an impression on the teachers, especially Slughorn. Whenever Slughorn passed their cauldron, he eyed them gleefully.

"I think he's got all the wrong impression of us," Cassiopeia whispered.

Tom smirked. "There's no right or wrong, there's only useful or futile."

Cassiopeia frowned. "So you don't mind?"

"Why would I? Slughorn tends to share his impression with others. If he shares this one with Dumbledore it might actually be useful. If Dumbledore believes one of his favourite students trusts me, he may become a little less suspicious and maybe a little less attentive."

Cassiopeia huffed. "Surely even you can't truly think I could influence Dumbledore's opinion in any way. If he actually believed I trusted you he'd probably only question my sanity." She paused. "And somehow you couldn't even blame him, now, could you?"

Tom's smirk grew wider. "I wouldn't have thought that you still have such a high opinion of the disgusting old fool. However, apparently you're still the same girl who spent a whole night crying because the great Dumbledore wrote a rude comment on her first Transfiguration essay."

Cassiopeia glared at Tom. "No one knows that."

"I do. And I know much more." Tom's voice was smug. Cassiopeia continued to glare at him and suddenly a genuine grin crossed his face. "I'd say you decided on your loyalties when you chose to make a deal with the devil rather than let go of your memories."

There was a moment of silence. Cassiopeia turned towards their potion and stirred it clockwise as required. She knew he was right. "Don't worry; I know my loyalties. However, Dumbledore is a great wizard, and he definitely is no fool. He sees who you truly are."

She saw Tom's fist tighten around the handle of the knife with which he was currently cutting the Salamander tails. His knuckles turned white and he chopped the tails with more force than necessary. "I know," Tom growled. After a moment he added, "And I know it's my own damn fault." A flash of anger crossed Tom's face. He grabbed the sliced Salamander tails furiously but before he could throw them into the cauldron Cassiopeia blocked his hand with hers.

"The instructions say that we need to stir the potion counterclockwise first."

Tom glared at her hand holding his. He wanted to pull his hand away and curse her for even touching him but, strangely, his hand wouldn't move, slowly relaxing under her touch. He couldn't quite believe it, but he actually felt his anger subside. Tom frowned. Then he said, "I know what I am doing. Now you can prove your trust."

For a moment they stared at each other. Then Cassiopeia let go of Tom's hand. Tom held her gaze for another moment before he turned to the cauldron and threw the Salamander tails into the potion. Cassiopeia eyed the potion curiously. It instantly turned a deep shade of yellow, making Slughorn, who was just passing their cauldron, beam. A smile crossed Cassiopeia's face.

"I'm better than a bloody textbook." Tom's voice was smug again.

"I know you are," Cassiopeia answered, a small smile still visible on her face.

* * *

When the summer holidays came Cassiopeia invited Tom to stay at Houlton Manor once again, and he accepted her offer right away. The summer flew by. They spent most of their time reading and experimenting with magic. Since they were both seventeen and the Trace was finally gone, Tom felt a freedom he had never known before. Although he had managed to outsmart the Trace before, it was different to know that now there were no more limitations.

When the owls from Hogwarts finally arrived with the letters, Tom was relieved to find that Dippet had actually made Cassiopeia Head Girl. He could see the pride in Cassiopeia's eyes when she held the shining badge in her hands. He smirked. "I see you actually made it."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"I've already prepared the speech for the meeting with the prefects," Tom stated.

Cassiopeia grinned. "You were really convinced that Dippet wouldn't have any other choice than to make you Head, weren't you?"

"Of course I was," Tom smirked. "Who else should he choose, over _me_?"

"What about the patrol schedules?"

Tom shook his head. "Honestly, I don't give a damn who's going to patrol with whom. You can arrange the schedules as you please."

"Fine. Let's see. What about Riddle/Yaxley?"

"Don't you dare." Tom glared at her, but for once she could see that it wasn't genuine, and a smile crossed her face.

They both couldn't wait to be back at Hogwarts again. This last year at Hogwarts was special to both of them. Being Head Girl and Head Boy gave them the privilege of sharing the Heads' dorms and common room. The common room was decorated with the Slytherin and Ravenclaw colours. It offered two desks, some book shelves and two armchairs and a sofa near the fireside. Already upon entering the common room for the first time, Tom knew that this would be his safe haven where he wouldn't need to pretend but could be completely himself. His free time would be filled with dark magic. He wouldn't have to bother with any charming masquerade, and that would make things so much easier. Cassiopeia revelled in the prospect of having Tom around almost always. They spent their evenings reading and studying, sometimes doing school work and preparing for their N.E.W.T., but mostly trying magic beyond the school curriculum. Time flew by and Cassiopeia wished it would slow down, making this last year last longer.

However, all too soon it was already New Year's Eve 1944. Many students and teachers had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays due to the wizarding and Muggle wars that were raging throughout Europe. Headmaster Dippet had decided to host a New Year's Eve party for the remaining students and teachers. Dinner was already finished. Music was playing, and most people were enjoying themselves. Cassiopeia and Tom were sitting at the Slytherin table and were watching the dancing crowd. When the majority of the party guests had already got quite drunk, Cassiopeia slid closer to Tom and asked in a low voice, "Would you care to leave? I'd like to show you something."

Tom quirked an eyebrow. Then he nodded and got up. When they had left the Great Hall, Cassiopeia turned towards the entrance doors and pulled her cloak closer around herself.

"Outside?" Tom frowned.

Cassiopeia nodded and pushed the door open. Tom followed behind, wrapping his cloak tighter, too. Cassiopeia silently led the way towards Hogwarts' gates. "We need to leave the grounds. Then we can apparate somewhere less public." They had just passed the gates when Cassiopeia held out her arm and, grudgingly, Tom grabbed it. "I don't particularly like side-along apparition," he spat.

When they reappeared they were in the middle of nowhere. It was completely dark. Tom drew his wand and cast a silent Lumos. In the light of his wand, he could guess that they were on a meadow, somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. A mischievous grin flashed across Tom's face. "Do you think it is wise to go somewhere this dark and secluded, alone with me?"

Cassiopeia deadpanned, "Probably it's not wise to go anywhere alone with you. It just seems that it turned out I'm not wise long ago, doesn't it?" Tom smirked. He watched as Cassiopeia took her wand out of her cloak and pointed it at the dark sky. Staring at her wand she whispered, "And I'd prefer if nobody else saw this, so there was no other way." Then she muttered an incantation. Tom glanced at the sky where the clouds seemed to rearrange, finally revealing an impressive sight, shining emerald green before the otherwise black sky. It was a huge skull with a winding serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. The mark glittered as if it was made of countless emerald stars. Tom stared at it, for once lost for words, genuinely fascinated by the sinister beauty.

"You made that?" he finally asked.

"It was meant to be a special birthday present. I tried until I thought that it suited you."

"It….does."

Cassiopeia smiled. "The incantation is "Morsmordre". Happy Birthday, Tom."

Tom didn't take his eyes off the Dark Mark glittering in the sky, pure contentment visible on his face. After a moment he asked, "Why don't you stop calling me that?"

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "It's your name."

"I told you that I fashioned myself a new name."

There was a moment of silence. Cassiopeia pulled her cloak tighter around herself. "Lord Voldemort?" Cassiopeia paused. "I'll never call you that," she finally replied in a firm voice.

Tom huffed, "I don't want to share my filthy Muggle father's name." His face was suddenly distorted by contempt.

"It's not his name; it's yours. And to me, your name is special because you are special."

"I want a name that I know wizards everywhere will one day fear to speak."

Cassiopeia slowly shook her head. "You don't need a title or a new name to make me fear you."

"You fear me?" Tom raised his eyebrows.

"Of course I do. I would be stupid not to, wouldn't I?"

Tom didn't reply. He just watched the Dark Mark in the sky, twirling his wand in his fingers. It was beautiful. He had never gotten a birthday present before in his life, but he knew that none could have been as perfect as this one. He was suddenly aware of Cassiopeia standing so close to him with her cloak wrapped tightly around her, slightly shivering from the cold. On a sudden impulse he closed the distance between them determinedly and gently pressed his lips against hers. Her body was warm against his despite the freezing cold. He sensed her surprise and quickly suppressed a smirk. For once, he only wanted to savour this moment, without contemplating if he actually wasn't supposed to feel the way he was feeling, without thinking if this was weak or wrong. Being close to her had always felt so right even though he had always thought it to be nothing but wrong. This time he didn't want to waste energy dwelling on that it might be wrong. For once, he only wanted to give in to what he desired and he felt that he had every right to; it was his birthday, and, after all, he always got what he wanted. Cassiopeia was slightly taken aback, instinctively wondering about Tom's motives and his intention. But then a wave of recklessness washed over her, leaving her mind completely empty, and she felt herself responding to his kiss. For once, it did not matter if this was right or wrong; it did not matter if he had some hidden agenda as always or if they were going to regret it. For once, it was only him and her, on this deserted meadow, under the glittering Dark Mark, in the freezing cold of New Year's Eve.


	7. Poison

**Chapter Seven - Poison  
**

After Christmas break the weeks flew by. The teachers didn't tire of reminding them of their upcoming N.E.W.T. exams. Tom and Cassiopeia studied dutifully. While it was obvious that Tom had already mastered all of the content of the curriculum, Cassiopeia was surprised at the patience with which he kept revising with her. Honestly, Tom was surprised as well, but he found it strangely relaxing. He knew that they were both excellently prepared for the exams, but he enjoyed the intense concentration with which Cassiopeia kept studying.

All too soon it was May. While they were sitting in their exams, Dumbledore finally went out of his way to fight Grindelwald in a spectacular duel and defeated Grindelwald at last. Dumbledore came out of it as the shining hero of the wizarding world, and Tom's hatred of the man increased even further.

Time didn't slow down and, finally, the graduation ceremony was the last big event of the year. Before they were handed their diplomas, Dippet addressed the students, congratulating them on their graduation and wishing them all the best for their future. When Dippet had finished, Tom gave his graduation speech as Head Boy. Cassiopeia realized that it was probably one of the last great performances of the perfect model-student that he was going to give. And as always he truly excelled. Cassiopeia smiled. He spoke as eloquently as always and with his way of talking he effortlessly made people believe him. When Tom returned to the Slytherin table, his Slytherin gang cheered and the rest of Hogwarts' population applauded. Tom slid smoothly into his seat, his gaze slowly moving over the Ravenclaw table. When Tom's and Cassiopeia's eyes met, a grin crossed his face, and she knew that he relished the fact that for seven long years he had successfully fooled everyone at this school, with only a few exceptions.

When Cassiopeia returned to their common room after dinner, she felt strangely empty. Hogwarts had been her home for seven years, and she had always loved it. She couldn't quite picture a life without Hogwarts and, moreover, she didn't really want to. Leaving Hogwarts the next day meant leaving behind everything she had grown used to for so many years. Leaving Hogwarts meant leaving Tom. Cassiopeia was sitting on the windowsill when Tom entered the room, closing the door behind him. He watched her for a moment before he walked over to the window and stood beside her.

"So, that's it," Cassiopeia said, breaking the silence. "We're finally done." Her voice was wistful.

"On the contrary, this is only the beginning. The world is waiting for us."

"I know." Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows. "You kept dwelling on that in your speech." Cassiopeia turned towards Tom. "But I'm sure you are going to miss Hogwarts as well."

Tom didn't respond. He knew she was right. Actually, he didn't want to leave Hogwarts either. He had asked Headmaster Dippet to let him stay as the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher since Professor Merrythought had retired but Dippet had refused. Tom was sure that Dumbledore had interfered again, opting against letting Tom stay. Tom had successfully fought his anger and had decided to go to Albania instead. He wanted to search for Ravenclaw's long lost diadem. He had charmed the Grey Lady into telling him the diadem's whereabouts some time ago, and he had been eager to retrieve it ever since. Tom had pondered if he should ask Cassiopeia to accompany him, but he still hadn't made a decision. Tom didn't give a damn what people thought, but he knew it wasn't regarded as decent if a young lady was with a man without being engaged. However, engagement was no option for him, and he was certain that Cassiopeia knew that. Tom was quite confident that she wouldn't care, but that didn't mean that her father wouldn't care as well. Tom wanted Cassiopeia to go to Albania with him, but he certainly wasn't going to ask. Tom pursed his lips and stared out of the window. Finally, he said, "Hogwarts was my home but there's so much out there, so many ways of magic that haven't been taught here. I want to find them. I want to push magic as far as I can." He paused. "I intend to push it further than anyone before." He paused again. After a moment he added, "I'll go to Albania."

Cassiopeia looked at Tom. There was a sinister gleam shining in his eyes, contrasting sharply with his handsome features, making him look so beautiful and dangerous. She felt herself getting swept away by his power again. His darkness had lost nothing of its appeal. Cassiopeia swallowed. She didn't want this to be the end. She wanted to stay with him; she wanted nothing more than to be part of his quest to conquer the endless power that magic was able to offer.

Suddenly Tom turned to look at her, his eyes catching hers. For a moment they stood there, looking in each other's eyes. The unspoken question was heavily hanging in the air. Tom knew that he would never ever ask, but he truly wanted her to reply. Cassiopeia grew aware that she still hoped against hope that he would ask although she knew that he never would. She pondered her options. Finally she whispered, "Albania is far. They won't care, will they?"

The corner of Tom's mouth twitched slightly when he answered, "They won't."

* * *

When they finally arrived in Albania, they felt truly free. Cassiopeia had convinced her father to let her go. Tom had thought her foolish for telling the truth, or at least part of it, but Cassiopeia didn't want to lie to her father. She had raved about the things she would be able to learn there and with that she had won her father over. She had known he would never deny her the possibility to broaden her knowledge and experience. Tom had told her that he wanted to search for Ravenclaw's diadem first. They travelled to the forest in which it was supposed to be hidden, but the forest was big, and they were aware that it would take quite some time to track down the diadem. They had already been walking through the dark forest in silence for hours. Cassiopeia was following Tom closely, her hand clutching her wand tightly. "How on earth did you get the Grey Lady to tell you where she hid it?"

Tom smirked. "I thought you know that I can be very persuasive."

"I wasn't aware that worked in regard to ghosts."

"Well, it did." Tom strode ahead, moving almost noiselessly, keeping his wand ready.

Suddenly they heard some branches break in the vicinity. Tom abruptly stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly. Cassiopeia held her breath. There surely were various creatures living in this forest that she preferred not to stumble upon. She felt her heart beating rapidly. She glanced at Tom. He didn't seem to be fazed at all. His eyes were scanning their surroundings thoroughly, and they were shining with excited anticipation. Cassiopeia exhaled quietly. She felt safe in his company. She noticed the irony that was implied in this feeling, but she couldn't help the ghost of a smile flicker across her face. Tom quickly pulled her behind the massive trunk of a tree, hiding behind it as well. From their hiding place he watched two dark figures approach slowly. He narrowed his eyes and a slight look of disappointment crossed his features when he realized that those were only wizards. He stepped out from behind the tree. The two men were startled when they saw him. Then they regained their composure, realizing that he was still a teen.

"Now, what are you doing out here, boy? This is a dangerous place to be," one of the wizards sniggered.

The other nodded. "You could meet some evil villains out here," he added maliciously.

Tom looked at them, his gaze cold and steady, the familiar contempt shining in his eyes.

The first wizard moved a little closer. "And I see you brought your girlfriend. Not the best day for you, lass, I'd say." He looked at Cassiopeia greedily. Tom felt her tense behind him. He shot the man a disdainful glance. When the wizard made to approach, Cassiopeia felt Tom's magic surging through him, but the two wizards seemed to be completely unaware of the danger. The two men exchanged vicious looks and came closer.

"Stop moving." Tom's voice was cold and sharp, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

The two wizards laughed spitefully. "Who do you think you are, boy?"

Cold fury washed over Tom. In an instant he had brandished his wand at the two wizards. Cassiopeia felt a wave of powerful dark magic pass her. The curses hit the two men straight in the chest before they even had the chance to see them coming. They silently crumpled to the ground, their greedy eyes having turned into an empty, lifeless stare.

"Pathetic fools," Tom hissed contemptuously. "So easily deceived by looks." He eyed the bodies of the two wizards with a bored expression, holding his wand lazily in his hand.

Cassiopeia glanced at him. He had killed the two men without batting an eyelid. There was no guilt in his eyes, no regret, nothing but coldness. Cassiopeia knew she should be appalled but she wasn't. Instinctively she moved closer to Tom, inevitably lured to him by the unlimited power he was radiating. Tom sensed her standing only inches away from him. He frowned. It was strangely reassuring. He wondered if he would ever get used to that.

* * *

The next weeks passed rather uneventfully, but finally they came across the diadem. When Tom held it in his hands, his eyes shone with satisfaction. He carefully pocketed the priceless heirloom. Suddenly there were a lot of noises around them. Tom and Cassiopeia quickly exchanged looks and pulled their wands. Tom cast a shield charm around them. Then they saw several creatures emerge from the woods. Tom squinted. He instantly knew that those weren't wizards. It surely was some kind of magical protection for the diadem because they didn't even look like living beings. His mind was racing, trying to figure out a way to fight them. The creatures were circling them and slowly approaching. Tom and Cassiopeia stood back-to-back facing the nameless invaders. And then the creatures started attacking. Relentlessly, curses rained down on Tom and Cassiopeia, but they determinedly fought back. Cassiopeia kept casting shield charms while Tom sent waves of offensive dark magic towards their attackers. Cassiopeia watched some of the creatures fall only to reveal more of them coming from behind, their onslaught losing nothing of its intensity. She slowly started to panic. They were heavily outnumbered. She tried hard to focus on the protective charms she was casting, her heart racing. Tom could sense her fear. He took a deep breath and intensified his attacks, casting his curses even faster, battling all of them at once. Finally, he gained the upper hand. His wrath made his magic grow even stronger, and with a final flick of his wand a wave of blinding fire blasted the remaining creatures away at last.

Cassiopeia sank to her knees, her body trembling and her hands shaking. Tom turned to look at her. His face was as emotionless as ever, but he slowly knelt down beside her, hesitantly taking her in his arms, trying to stop her trembling. He felt Cassiopeia relax under his touch. When she finally raised her head and looked into his eyes, her lips finding his and pulling him close, he willingly gave in to it. He knew it was one of those rare moments when they could completely let go, forgetting the world around them for a little while and only living for the moment.

* * *

A few days later Cassiopeia received a letter from her brother asking her to come home because their father was seriously ill. When she left Tom and the diadem behind she clung to the hope that he wasn't going to do what she expected. Her father died shortly after her return, leaving Houlton Manor to his children, Cepheus and Cassiopeia. Cepheus was busy working for the ministry and came to the Manor only occasionally. That left Cassiopeia all on her own. As time went by she started to wonder if she was ever going to see Tom again, if he was ever going to come back. She had heard nothing from him since the day when she had left Albania.

Tom had finally turned the diadem into his third Horcrux. To his dismay, the procedure had lost nothing of its horror, being as painful and humiliating as ever. Sometime after he had returned to England he apparated to Houlton Manor. When his gaze fell on the property he remembered the summers he had spent there. He was ripped from his memories when he saw Cassiopeia open the front door. Obviously, she intended to leave. Quickly, he stepped out of the shadows and approached the house. When she saw him, a smile flickered across her face. She waited until he was next to her. "Do you want to come in?"

Tom simply nodded and they entered the house. "Are you alone?" Now Cassiopeia nodded.

"I want to show you something." Tom held out his arm for her to take. The moment she touched his arm, she was pulled into the spinning darkness of side-along apparition. Quickly, she tightened her grip, trying to stay by his side. When they reappeared, she found herself in a place that looked very similar to the hall of the Chamber of Secrets. Obviously, Tom had put various charms on the place to resemble his ancestor's Chamber.

"Where are we?" Cassiopeia let go of Tom's arm and examined her surroundings. There were no windows and the dim light reminded her of the dungeons at Hogwarts.

"That doesn't matter," Tom answered. "Now that you've been here, you will be able to apparate again."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "Surely, you put strong wards on this place that prevent Apparition."

Tom smirked. "Quite right. However, you'll be able to enter once I'm finished." He took his wand and grabbed her hand. Without waiting for her to reply, he slashed his wand across her palm, cutting it open. Cassiopeia stared at her hand. Blood was leaving the cut. "I only need some of your blood and then this place will let you return." After a moment he added, "Don't misuse this. Otherwise things might get somewhat – uncomfortable, shall we say?"

Cassiopeia slowly nodded, still staring at her blood dripping on the floor under the pressure that Tom was applying to her hand. Tom waved his wand and muttered various complicated incantations. The blood that had been pooling on the floor vanished. Finally, he released her hand and with another wave of his wand the cut healed.

"So this is what you did the past months," Cassiopeia stated.

"Why don't we take some time to catch up on everything? Don't friends do that?"

Cassiopeia sneered. "Maybe friends do that. We wouldn't know, would we?"

Tom smirked. "Come on, you always knew how I am. Stop chasing shadows at last!"

He motioned her to follow him to the fireplace where they sat down on the sofa facing the flames. They stared into the fire, and for a long time neither of them said a word. Cassiopeia closed her eyes, biting back tears. It felt like Tom had never been away. They were back at Hogwarts, in the Heads' common room, the one place where everything had been easy and nothing impossible. She wished time would stop and they were never to move again. Tom's magic was crackling around him, subtly touching her own magic, comforting her in a way she had missed for so long. Cassiopeia deliberately chose to ignore the subliminal violence his magic was exhibiting.

After a while Tom cleared his throat. "There's a spell I want to try." Tom twirled his wand in his fingers.

"What does it do?"

"It creates a brand that enables communication. When you touch the mark with your wand, I will know." He looked at her expectantly.

Cassiopeia eyed him warily. "What do you need?"

"Your left arm."

Cassiopeia slowly rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. Tom reached out and grabbed her wrist. He slowly traced her inner forearm with his long pale fingers. He noticed how warm she was compared to his cold fingers. Then he pointed his wand at her skin and brandished it, whispering the incantation. The wood of his wand traced the skin of her arm leaving behind the fiery outline of a skull with a winding serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. Tom watched with fascination as the mark burned into her skin, leaving a faint red brand, looking beautiful against her skin. A small smile spread across his face. He hadn't told her the full story. The mark did not only enable communication; it was also going to alert him whenever her life was in danger. Finally, she was irrevocably his.

"Try it," he commanded.

Slowly, she took her wand out of her pocket and carefully pointed it at the mark. The moment her wand touched the brand, the outline grew jet black. Tom felt a burning sensation. "It works." He sounded satisfied.

Cassiopeia removed her wand and the mark slowly turned back to its original colour. She stared at the familiar outline, remembering the night of Tom's eighteenth birthday out in the Scottish Highlands, and the faintest trace of a smile crossed her face. He seemed to remember as well because suddenly he was close to her again and the world faded around them.

* * *

When Cassiopeia had returned to Houlton Manor, Tom sat in his armchair contemplating. Before she had left, he had shown her Ravenclaw's diadem. She hadn't said anything but something had been wrong. He just didn't know what it was. Reading between the lines wasn't Tom's specialty. After all, usually that wasn't necessary for someone as skilled in Legilimency as him; but using Legilimency hadn't been an option. Cassiopeia had probably extended her Occlumency skills just as he had extended his Legilimency skills. That meant he would have had to fight her down. For some odd reason, he neither wanted that nor did he want to break the promise he had made to her during the summer holidays so long ago. Normally, promises didn't mean anything to him, and he wouldn't shy away from the prospect of breaking one, but again, Cassiopeia was different. Tom knew that she was the only one he had ever met who knew about him and his true personality and still stood by him of their own free will, the only one who had ever truly cared for him. He knew that if the concept of friendship wasn't alien to him and he was to ever consider anyone his friend then Cassiopeia actually would be that, a friend that accepted him the way he was with all his darker and darkest sides, a friend that dared to look him in the eyes even though she knew what he was capable of. She had always been ready to accept and help without questioning his motives or actions. She was special.

* * *

Surprisingly for everyone who knew him, Tom turned down several job offers from the Ministry and started working for Borgin and Burkes. With his pleasant demeanour he was very good at persuading people to part with their wizardly artefacts, making him quite successful in his job. Cassiopeia soon learned that Tom was able to signal her through the Dark Mark. The brand would turn to its jet black colour and burn like fire. Cassiopeia would apparate to Tom's lair, as she referred to it for lack of a better word. They would sit there and read or study, much like it had always been at Hogwarts. Tom would experiment with magic, and they would work together on his inventions, always trying to refine them even further. To Cassiopeia, life was good. She was exactly where she had always wanted to be. The years went by, and Cassiopeia wished that nothing would ever change. However, working at Borgin and Burkes surely wasn't where Tom wanted to spend the rest of his life. Having gained immortality through his Horcruxes she was aware that time didn't matter to him the way it mattered to others. Nevertheless, she knew there was going to come the day when things would change. With every year that passed Cassiopeia felt the end of her peaceful time with Tom drawing nearer.

Then one morning, Cassiopeia read about the death of Hepzibah Smith in the Daily Prophet. Hepzibah's poor house-elf seemed to have mistaken some highly lethal poison for sugar and accidentally killed her mistress. Cassiopeia's heart dropped. Tom had once told her that Hepzibah possessed a cup that used to belong to Helga Hufflepuff and a locket that was Slytherin's. Cassiopeia had seen the greed in his eyes when he had mentioned these priceless heirlooms. Rereading the article she had trouble picturing the loyal house-elf making such a grave mistake. Instead she saw someone entirely else poisoning the cocoa and taking the valuable belongings. Cassiopeia desperately hoped she was wrong. She impatiently waited for the mark to burn again but the days went by and it remained mockingly inactive. When Cassiopeia couldn't bear it any longer, she decided to pay a visit to Borgin and Burkes. However, Mr. Burke could only tell her that Mr. Riddle hadn't shown up for over a week. Cassiopeia returned home and stared at the brand covering her left forearm for over an hour. She knew that if Tom had wanted to talk to her, he would have signalled her by now. Therefore, she didn't expect him to show up if she used the mark to summon him. With a last glance at the mark she made up her mind and apparated to Tom's lair. There was no one there, but a folded parchment lay on the table. Cassiopeia examined it. It was empty. Cassiopeia eyed the parchment for a moment. Remembering the way Tom had granted her access to his lair, she pulled her wand and pointed it at her left hand. Then she cut her hand with her wand and let her blood drop on the paper. The blood was instantly soaked into it. Instead, words appeared. The message was short. "I got them. I need to do this alone. Don't search for me." Upon reading, the writing disappeared.

Cassiopeia stared at the now empty page. She felt her heart shatter, leaving behind a coldness that was taking her breath away. She desperately tried to fight back the tears. Then she cast a last look around the room and turned on the spot, disapparating from the place she had felt at home at for the last decade.

Back at Houlton Manor, Cassiopeia was still feeling cold and empty. She lit the fire and sat close to it but it didn't help. The coldness inside of her didn't subside. Tom had taken the cup and the locket. He would make them his Horcruxes; probably, he already had. The shattered piece of soul that remained inside his body decreased with every Horcrux, and the consequences grew more significant with every split. Already the creation of the third Horcrux had changed his magic in a dangerous way, turning it even more violent and insane. Naturally, Tom had been as powerful as ever but his magic had been cruelly lashing out until Cassiopeia had finally had to admit that it was a lethal poison that was burning deep inside her veins. It condemned her as much as it fuelled her. Two more Horcruxes would turn his magic even more merciless and poisonous; just like him. And still she longed for his presence, even though she knew that it would ruin her.

Cassiopeia wiped a tear from her eye. It was obvious that Tom had not only torn his soul. He had consistently destroyed what little humanity had ever been inside of him. With every Horcrux he had made, he had become less human. He hadn't had feelings in the first place, and with all the damage he had done to himself Cassiopeia was convinced there was no chance that he would ever even come close to understanding their significance. She had loved him so much, and still she hadn't been able to prevent this disaster from occurring. She knew her love was going to destroy her. With a bitter smirk she noted the irony that, after all, she was going to prove him right in the end, that love was a weakness.

* * *

Cassiopeia was standing on the platform of the tower of Houlton Manor. It was New Year's Eve again. The night was cold and clear. Cassiopeia relished the quiet peacefulness. So much time had passed. Tom had never returned. Cassiopeia had lost track of the days, months, years since she had last seen him. Her gaze fell on the Houlton's family coat of arms engraved on the stone wall. The words above the crest were lit by the pale moonlight. Semper fidelis. The ghost of a sneer flickered across her face. Always faithful. At least she had always lived up to it, she thought bitterly.

She desperately missed Tom and her magic missed his. There was an emptiness inside of her that consumed all the happiness that had ever existed for her. No one could ever compensate for the void that Tom had left. With him, her magic had been complete. Without him, it lay in pieces. Even though his blinded strive for immortality had altered him and his magic, she was still addicted to it. She yearned for him and his poisonous power, and it felt like withdrawal that she couldn't be with Tom.

She still couldn't believe how Tom had deliberately destroyed everything she had loved by ripping his soul apart time after time. She had grown aware that even if Tom ever returned, things would never be the same again. His magic wasn't the same anymore; _he_ wasn't the same anymore. After he had disappeared, she had cried until there were no more tears left, mourning the inexplicable loss she had suffered. She knew that he had damaged his soul beyond repair. She knew she had finally lost; all hope was dead, as was the person she had held so dear.

When she was standing there, the cool air around her, she felt at ease. She confidently moved closer to the rim until she was right at the edge, only one step away from the ground so far below. She took a deep breath and looked at the stars above. Suddenly the air around her changed. Instinctively, she knew she wasn't alone anymore. She turned around and saw Tom standing on the platform, a few feet away from her. She shortly wondered how he had broken through the many protective wards that made apparition impossible. However, Tom had always been inventive and if there was anyone she would think capable of breaking through impenetrable wards it was Tom. Cassiopeia didn't say anything and neither did Tom. They only stood there staring at each other. Cassiopeia found that she hardly recognized him anymore. He had changed so drastically. Finally, when the silence got heavy, Tom offered with a slightly higher-pitched voice than he used to have, "What are you doing there?" Tom stared at her with his piercing gaze before he continued as if answering some unspoken assumption, "You won't". His voice was emotionless and commanding.

There was another moment of silence. Cassiopeia slightly raised her eyebrows. "You really have the nerve, after all this time?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Tom felt his temper flare dangerously. He tried to focus on her. "I'm not _asking_ ," he spat.

"You can't save me," Cassiopeia whispered hoarsely. "Consider it another life you have successfully taken. After all, it's not as if you cared, is it? The notorious murderer you are."

Tom's eyes turned red, and his hand tightened around his wand. He had to fight hard to keep his temper. "You have always known that I killed. It didn't matter to you back then," he hissed.

"It mattered when you finally killed the one person I cared for." Cassiopeia's voice was trembling. Tom raised his eyebrows. "It mattered when you killed yourself."

Tom laughed, and the sound of it made shivers run down Cassiopeia's spine. It sounded unearthly and insane. Cassiopeia felt like she saw him for the very first time. Then Tom stated in a humourless voice, "I am not dead. In fact, I am immortal and you know it."

Cassiopeia felt tears building up in her eyes, but she didn't mind. Somehow she just couldn't believe that after all this time he still failed to understand. "Yes, _you_ are immortal; but the person you used to be left long ago. _That_ was the person I cared for. That was the person I loved." Cassiopeia's voice broke, her gaze wandering over the surrounding landscape and tears now slowly leaving her eyes. "You killed him."

When Cassiopeia looked back at Tom, unlimited sadness and despair were evident in her eyes. "You think you can change anything now? You are too late. You already killed my heart over and over again, with every damn time that you split your soul. I am just as empty as you are. I don't fear you anymore, and I don't fear death. There's no more pain you can inflict on me." All the despair, all the disappointment that she had tried to suppress for so long flooded her body. She felt tired and exhausted. She looked at him, at his burning red eyes, fury raging through his entire body, his magic crackling savagely around him, only waiting to strike and destroy, and she knew that the man she had loved was gone.

The moment Tom saw the blinding green light leave his wand he felt the shattered remainder of his torn soul, buried somewhere deep inside, aching worse than ever before. Pain tore at him with an intensity he hadn't known to exist. He stared unbelieving at his wand while something strange and unfamiliar was surging inside him, inexorably spreading throughout his body. He felt this unfamiliar power fuelling him. Suddenly, he grew aware of his magic burning in his veins more vividly than ever before. He felt it crackling around him, stronger and more powerful than he had ever experienced. It made him feel truly alive. He realized he was more alert than he had been for a very long time.

When he saw Cassiopeia fall, he instantly knew she had been right. In his quest for immortality he had lost himself on the way. Splitting his soul over and over again had taken its toll on him. He found it increasingly difficult to concentrate, he could hardly ever sleep and his already short temper had even deteriorated. His originally sharp mind was often clouded; his thoughts so often seemed to escape before he could get hold of them. He knew his power had increased with time and experience but the core of his personality had slowly died, _he_ had slowly died. Through his Horcruxes he had gained immortality, but he had paid a high price.

Tom slowly moved towards Cassiopeia's body and knelt down beside her. Her features were even and relaxed. She looked peaceful. The despair, the disappointment, the sadness had all left her face. Hesitantly, Tom reached out with his long pale fingers. When he touched her skin, the strange force that was rushing through his veins grew even more intense, and he was thrown back in memories; their duel in the prefects' common room, his Cruciatus Curse, the night when he had failed to erase her memory, the creation of his first Horcrux, the feverish kiss in the Chamber of Secrets, the night of his eighteenth birthday out in the Highlands, their trip to Albania, her despair when he had shown her Ravenclaw's diadem, the disappointment and hopelessness that had radiated from her back then. Tom slowly withdrew his hand. He stayed there kneeling beside her for a long time. Then he threw a last glance at Cassiopeia, and with a fluid movement of his wand her body vanished. Tom stood there staring at the spot where her body had been moments before. He wasn't going to leave her here. She was his, even now. He knew he had let her down, and somewhere deep inside the remains of his torn soul ached agonizingly.

His magic was still burning fiercely, ready to strike and destroy, fuelled and strengthened by this strange force that kept rushing through his body. And finally Tom understood. He knew he had made his choices long ago. There was no turning back; there was no taking back the fatal curse or repairing his soul. It was too late. But, at least, now, he understood. He would never again underestimate the power of emotion.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks again to all who read, followed, favourited and, especially, reviewed!**

 **I always love to read your thoughts on the story!**


	8. Epilogue

If you asked him whether he has ever rued what happened that night he would tell you that there's no room for repentance or contrition where there's not even a conscience.

Yet he would tell you that although he felt no remorse that did not mean he did not regret.

Sometimes you only know what you've had when you lose it.

Sometimes it needs loss to inspire perception.

Sometimes you need a second chance.

And sometimes you get it.

x-x-x-x

 **Author's note:**

 **Thanks so much for reading this far!!**

 **If you want to meet Tom and Cassiopeia again, if you feel there wasn't enough background information on the characters and too much timeskipping, if you'd like to return to Hogwarts eventually and see how things are going to turn out this time around, please go on to the sequels "Perception" and "Stolen Time" and discover the answers to those questions that remained unanswered so far :-)**


End file.
